#im determined i want these two idiots to be dUMB
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FATHER FIGURE JOEL, I’M LOVING IT. Can you make some comfort from father figure joel, pleaseeee???
so far from it
▹— joel miller x platonic!reader
▹— summary: you get into some trouble, luckily, you know who to call for help.
▹— a/n: aghhh i don’t like it!! but gotta give yall something while you wait for the part two’s! ALSO IM SORRY THIS ISNT AS MUCH COMFORT AS I MEANT FOR IT TO BE
▹— warnings: father figure joel, violence, blood, swearing, reader gets attacked, needles, stitches, a smidge of comfort at the end
masterlist
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Ever since you had joined Tess and Joel’s operation, things had been going pretty smoothly. Though they had argued on multiple occasions over your age, having various disagreements over your capability in this job, you had proven yourself time and time again.
It didn’t faze you. Nothing did, really. You could shoot an Infected point blank in the head without batting an eye, could dig through dirt and muck to find supplies you needed, could travel for hours upon end and Joel and Tess wouldn’t hear a peep coming from you.
That was life in the apocalypse, you supposed, the complete lack of any remorse for what could’ve been had you just been born a few decades earlier. This was your life.
Sometimes, it was a life you didn’t particularly want, but you continued, especially after working with the adult duo for so long, it had become increasingly clear that they needed you. You could get into places they couldn’t, your small size allowing those tight squeezes, and the strength in your arms helped towards moving things away from blocked entrances.
In return for your services, Tess had formed an agreement with Joel, that you could stay at their apartment with them, sprawled over their couch, and they’d provide you the ration cards you needed to survive. A roof over your head and food was more than generous, and you had known even back then that you’d be an idiot not to take it.
Especially when considering the power that Tess wielded in the QZ, with a network of informants spreading all throughout it, and with Joel, you knew nobody would dare look to steal from you. Everybody who was anybody in the QZ knew what the two of them were capable of, and considering your affiliation with them, you were sure nobody would even attempt to come for you.
You had prided yourself on being smart for a very long time, smart enough to survive in this world, smart enough to escape FEDRA school despite having no parents, smart enough to team up with adults who held some sort of power. You had never considered that that pride would be a bad thing.
But today, whilst out with Joel and Tess, you had decided to head a little further away from them than you would usually go, determined to use your ration cards for something you wanted. It was stupid, really. You wanted a dumb book, and thought your smarts were enough to trade the dealer for it, thought you were smart enough to avoid any tricks or cheats.
You knew there was something very wrong when two men stood behind you, one leering over your shoulder as you looked down at the object of your desires, and you repressed the urge to turn your head towards him.
Instead, you kept your eyes to the table, and shoved your hands in your pockets, one going to grip on to your ration cards, the other holding the handle of the knife Tess had given you.
It was when the seller nodded at the two of them that you knew you were fucked.
Trying to pull the knife out backfired, and the blade ripped your coat as the man on your right grabbed your arm, twisting until you felt your grip involuntarily weaken, and then the seller snatched it from your hand. The man on your left grasped your other arm, squeezing so tight you felt the bruises forming beneath his hand already.
It didn’t take a genius to realise you were in some deep shit, especially after being disarmed so quickly, and so you did the first thing that came to your mind.
“Joel! Joel, help—” Your yells were cut off by the left man slapping his hand over your mouth, and you bit his fingers, spitting as he hissed and pulled his hand away. You struggled, opening your mouth once more, but you were stopped before you could even begin again, as the right man grabbed your head, slamming it into the rickety table below.
Your vision swam, and you could only just register being pulled away from the street, down an alley nearby. Your ears were ringing, like they did when you fired your gun, and you weakly tried to reach up and hold your head, stopped by the hands grasping onto your arms even now.
The duo dropped you to the floor, and you just about managed to put your arms out to stop a second blow to the head, that would most likely have ended in a concussion.
Hands digging into your pockets were the next thing you became aware of, and your attempts of pushing them away went pretty much unnoticed.
“Fuck you, man.” You spat out, your voice garbled as you realised your mouth was filled with blood, and you could feel it oozing out of your lip and cheek. The metallic taste was disgusting, and it made you feel sick.
The two men pulled you to sit up against the brick wall, and you spat at the one you recognised to be righty, a glob of bloody spit landing on his knee as he crouched beside you.
“This fucking bitch,” He began, but was cut off by lefty, who shook the man’s shoulder with a sense of urgency as he looked towards the end of the alley.
You drew your gaze in that direction with some effort, and felt a grin light up your face. “Oh, you’re so fucked.” You laughed, blood still dripping from your mouth, and even the dizziness that overcame you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as the two men realised they’d dragged you into a dead end, and their only way out was blocked.
The fighting was a blur, if you were honest, the adrenaline leaving you as your body recognised that you were safe, Joel was here. It was only when his face was looming in front of you that your awareness came back, blood still pooling under your tongue.
“Shit, c’mon, kid. Let’s get you home.” Joel murmured, hands placed on your cheeks as he looked at your head injury, a wince on his own expression. Your head lolled, about to fall towards your chest if Joel hadn’t been holding it up, the weight feeling impossible all of a sudden.
You tried to help them stand you up, Tess having arrived at some point during the commotion, but you were likely more of a hindrance than a help. With an arm over either of their shoulders, you stumbled your way out of the alley, the FEDRA guard across the way turning his head to look away from the three of you.
You couldn’t remember much of the journey back to the apartment, which was probably good for your pride, as you could imagine it wasn’t easy. You probably looked like an idiot, unable to keep your own head up half the time, but Joel and Tess got you back safely, which you had never doubted.
“Concussion?” Joel asked Tess, after the two of them had settled you down on the couch, your neck resting against the arm of it, holding the weight of your head up for you.
“Let’s hope not,” Tess replied, handing Joel the bottle of alcohol and the rag that was left on the counter for times just like these. “I’m going back out, gonna go find those pricks and see what the fuck they were doing.” She announced, shouldering her backpack once again and frowning at you, before she turned and made her way out.
You could almost see the anger rolling off of Joel, the one emotion he never bothered to shy away from, and even as he tried to be careful, you still cringed and pulled away from the rag he was attempting to disinfect your injuries with.
“Sorry, kid, it’s gotta be done.” He grumbled, sounding the slightest bit sorry, and pressed the rag against your forehead, wiping away the blood that was still weeping from there.
You sighed, the taste of your own blood still lingering in your throat, but the wounds in your mouth had stopped flowing now. You couldn’t recall spitting out the rest of the blood, but you figured it must’ve happened on the journey back.
“Got me pretty good, huh?” You asked, your words slurring even though you were thinking of them with no problem, and you blinked your eyes shut in annoyance.
“Could’ve been worse.” Joel muttered, his hands moving your face to check it over for any further injuries. You could feel your eye and eyebrow swelling up now, and frowned at the sensation.
You should have never gone to buy that stupid book. It wasn’t smart, and you were always smart, so you couldn’t quite understand what had happened. That was childish, you realised, the feeling dawning on you suddenly, the shame, the embarrassment.
That was one thing you had always made sure to deny yourself of, those childish feelings, the spontaneous decisions that came with naivety, those were things that you couldn’t risk in the apocalypse. You couldn’t afford to — clearly, you had gotten too comfortable here, the impending doom that came with living in a world like this had started to feel far away, with Tess and Joel at your side.
It was embarrassing, having shown such a weakness, and for a moment you were worried it was going to cost you everything, but Joel finally returned to your side, having been to put away the alcohol and rag he’d used to disinfect your injuries. He was quiet for a few moments, and then started pulling something out of his backpack, the crease between his eyebrows deep.
You looked over at him, your brows drawing together when you saw the book he’d pulled from his pack, the blade of your knife stuck between the pages like some kind of violent bookmark.
The two of them were far too observant, and you swallowed nervously, frown growing deeper as you looked away from the book you had wanted so badly. That part of you, the childish part, the one that got you into this mess in the first place, wanted to reach out and pull the book from his hands, but you pushed that desire away like you should’ve done to start with.
“What? This not what you were after?” Joel asked gruffly, something like confusion catching in his tone.
“It was stupid,” You said in response, feeling anger warm your chest the longer you thought about the whole thing. From here on out, you were never gonna give in to such childish wants. “I was stupid.”
Your admission seemed to surprise Joel, if the way his eyebrows raised told you anything. He remained in silence for a few moments more, before he put the book down on the table to the side, and turned back to you. “You weren’t stupid,” Joel denied, about to continue before you cut him off.
“I was!” You said loudly, the words the clearest of any you’d said since getting back to the apartment, and you blinked away tears, blaming the head injury for making you more emotional. “I didn’t think. I put myself in danger because— because of what? A damn book? How childish is that—”
“You are a child.” Joel said, stopping you before you could continue your rant, your words getting more intelligible as you went on. You stared at him, the tears filling your eyes once more, and he carried on at your expression, “That’s not a bad thing. You’re allowed to want things.”
“I want to stay with you.” You told him, voice shaking and watery, “I don’t wanna have to leave because I act like a kid.”
“You ain’t goin’ anywhere, kid.” He spoke firmly, and with a bit of a hesitation, he reached out, moving the hair on your head away from the cut that had started to bleed once again. “Swear it. We’re gonna sort those guys out, and nobody’s ever gonna come after you again.”
You nodded, feeling the slightest bit relieved at his words, though no less ashamed of yourself.
“Alright?” You nodded once again, “Good. I’m sorry for this, kid, but that’s gonna need stitches.”
Your face fell, and he sighed through his nose, understanding your pain. He held the suture kit in his hand, and you realised he must’ve gotten it when he put the alcohol away earlier on.
He grabbed your hand, squeezing slightly, and kept his grasp on you when he started stitching, letting you grip on to him tightly each time he pushed the needle through your skin. “I hate getting stitches.” You murmured, when he was finally done, letting him take his hand back to put the suture kit away.
“I know.” He acknowledged, and ruffled your hair as he stood up. “Sit up.”
You did as he told you, swinging your legs so you were sat only on one side of the couch, and you furrowed your brows as Joel got comfortable on the other side. You finally realised what he was doing when you watched him reach over to the rickety wooden table and grab the book he’d taken from the seller.
“C’mon, let’s see what this fuss is about.” Joel grumbled, pulling the knife out of the pages and handing it to you, making you smile lightly even despite the pounding of your head.
“Thanks, Joel.” You told him, eyes still watery.
“S’alright.” He responded, letting you settle at his side as he looked through the book that had caught your attention. “Puns, really?”
You laughed at his less than pleased reaction, setting your head against his arm as you looked at the jokes in the book, laughing to yourself over some of them.
He just shook his head, pushing down the smile that wanted to rise to his lips as he listened to you laughing.
#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#tlou imagines#tlou one shot#tlou imagine#tlou angst#tlou fluff#joel miller father figure#joel miller fic#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal one shot#joel miller x platonic!reader
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Helloo, can i request something with Christmas vibes with gavi?
Have a good day!
secret santa ⁺₊❆ ⁺⋆
pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship)
summary: your boyfriend starts acting strange around Christmastime and you're determined to get to the bottom of it
warnings: none
w/c: 1.1k
a/n: okay firstly anon tysm for the request and secondly IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREEVER im literally an idiot who can't process the concept of time and realised Christmas is like ... tomorrow so .... hope you enjoy this !!!
Gavi had been acting strangely lately - at least, stranger than usual. And whilst you didn’t consider yourself the most observant person, even you had managed to pick up on his antics over the past couple of weeks.
It had started around the beginning of December. Usually you didn’t bother to care about what he was doing on his phone because when he wasn’t texting you, he was texting his teammates or coach about football. And he was never private about this either, not even putting a password on his phone and often getting you to answer calls and texts for him. It added a layer of trust to your relationship that you hadn’t expected at first, but had come to appreciate as second nature.
However one day, when you had been planning to carry out your favourite past time - spamming his camera roll with as many dumb selfies of yourself as possible - you had been surprised by a password prompt. And whilst it shocked you a little, you hadn’t worried too much about it, assuming he would casually mention the password to you the next time he needed you to check his phone for him.
But this time never came. Instead, and only adding to your surprise, he stopped asking you to answer his texts and calls. And if this wasn’t enough he became increasingly conscious of you watching his phone screen, often tilting away from you or glancing shiftily at you from time to time before resuming his typing.
And then there were the times away. You were by no means the clingiest partner, not like you had much of a choice when your boyfriend’s training regime was merciless to your already limited time together. But the two of you had managed to forge small pockets of time for each other, and maybe it was their limited nature that made them all the more important - in the concentration of love, affection, of care for one another. Which was why, when these became replaced with quick afternoon texts from Gavi saying he would come home a couple hours late, or when you would wake up on weekends to an empty bed, and a note that had clearly been written in a rush, you found yourself feeling fed up.
So you sought to get to the bottom of whatever had seized your boyfriend up, and caused him to act so uncharacteristically. Sure, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt - he did not seem like the type to cheat, but then again it was a possibility you just couldn’t deem impossible. And a possibility that only haunted you more and more given all of the breadcrumbs he seemed to be dropping.
Your opportunity struck when the two of you were sitting together on the couch watching your favourite Christmas movie Love Actually, which you considered a must-watch given it was almost a week until Christmas. And given that your moments spent together were rare nowadays, you wanted to spend as much time with Gavi as possible. That was, until he muttered to you softly that he had to go to the bathroom, setting down his phone on the couch before he got up.
You waited until the soft padding of his feet told you he was out of the room, then sprung up to grab his unlocked phone. Was a small part of you screaming about how wrong this was, and how you should just trust your boyfriend, yes. But was the rest of you also dying of curiosity, and partially of never-ending worry? Also yes.
That was, until you noticed a notification - a text message from Pedri.
“dude you don’t need to worry - they’ll like whatever you get them”
Your brows furrowed, clicking on the notification you scrolled up several days into the conversation between the two teammates and felt your heart almost shatter. There, laid out in front of you in digital messages was a manifestation of your boyfriend’s utmost love for you as he fretted to his friend about what kind of Christmas gift to get you.
Oh god, you were horrible.
There were pictures of several gifts, necklaces, rings, and stuffed toys, as well as messages figuring out meeting times between the two to visit shops - which you recognised as ones you had often dragged Gavi to on your outings together.
You were truly, really, horrible.
As if this wasn’t enough, a quick glance through your boyfriend’s search history showed a seemingly never-ending array of “romantic gifts for Christmas” and “how to shop for a Christmas gift for your partner”.
You were awful for ever doubting him.
You had seen enough to satisfy your nerves - and to fuel your guilty conscience - and were just about to put his phone back until you heard the creaking of floor boards behind you. Whipping your head around and trying your best to conceal your guilty expression you locked eyes with a shocked-looking Gavi.
“Hi,” you said, more of a gasp of surprise than an actual greeting.
“You,” Gavi’s tone came less annoyed or betrayed, but more of a whine, “You saw?”
You nodded tentatively. “But, I didn’t see what you actually got me! Just some of the messages and searches and-”
He groaned softly as he fell onto the couch next to you, a pout spread across his face and his brows furrowed. “It was supposed to be a surprise!” Guilt overtook you, especially as you watched the defeated expression his face. All you could do was let his phone slip from your hand, bringing it up to cup his face gently.
“I’m so sorry my love,” you cooed, trying your best to sound as apologetic as you could without giving away how endeared you were by this whole situation, by his effort, by him.
“You ruined the surprise…” he mumbled in a defeated tone, although he didn’t move away from your touch, prompting you to scoot closer.
“Hey, I didn’t see the actual gift but I’ll make it up to you” you sighed pleadingly, pecking his cheeks softly before adding “I really appreciate the thought and effort baby.”
The additional line seemed to warm him up as he let out a sigh, “You promise you didn’t see what I got you?”
“Promise.”
At that, he finally broke into a smile - one that was small but tinged with the mischievous look only someone who was planning a big surprise had. And whilst this fuelled a newfound curiosity within you regarding what exactly it was he got you, you couldn’t help but relish in the comfort of your new finding as you ran your fingers through your boyfriend’s hair, smiling as he leant into your touch.
#pablo gavi#gavi x reader#gavi x you#gavi fluff#gavi oneshot#gavi imagine#gavi fanfic#football#fc barcelona#fanfic#football fanfic#purinfelix#jet writes ★#jet answers ✧
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gorillaz whatever-this-phase-is good ending: the band is reprimanded for enabling the mental disintegration of their senior citizen bass player
(i mean, when a severally mentally ill 56 year old is starting to talk "cults" and is dressing up in robes, that's at least when you take them to a home, right?)
(on a serious note, idk why this phase is just off putting to me. i know im overthinking it, but murdoc really just seems out of his mind this phase. and it makes me uncomfortable that there's never been a band member to even SLIGHTLY care about that. or call it out in a way that doesn't make them seem "annoyed" about it. seeing this character go through so many breakdowns that are supposed to be "funny" is just unenjoyable, plain and simple. maybe it's my inability to forget about past phases, but if you add it all up, it really seems like murdoc finally snapped.)
Oh snap!! You went there! Oh shit!
Jk, but also not since Murdoc haters/non-fans will never go away. I like that you brought this up, and I think you make a lot of good and valid points. It would be such a plot twist if they went there, but they would never take that much of a risk. The band would never be legally reprimanded since Murdoc is an adult and has the right to self-determination, but it is kinda dumb of them to just play along with his delusions. Like, I’ll just say it - the entire storyline this album makes them look really, really, idiotic. It's not something I would do, personally.
I lol'd at "take them to a home." But yeah, if we were going to play this out realistically, assuming Murdoc is in treatment, the first step would be a medication adjustment since he seems to be becoming more symptomatic. If that doesn't work, he might try and intensive outpatient type of treatment. If it gets to a point where he appears to be a risk to himself or others, then he may need to be hospitalized until he can get stable on medication again. If he's really deteriorated, then he may need a long-term hospitalization, but Gorillaz will never get this serious.
Tbh, I've almost gotten to a point where I'll think about potential story directions, but only for my own ideas, never to seriously try to ~predict canon plot points because Gorillaz, as it exists now, is not about story anymore. Your third paragraph reminds why I sometimes wish it was, even if it would be executed poorly. They're going for silly and fun, but if you think about it for more than two seconds, it's not really that funny at all, and the humor isn’t smart or satirical. I've complained about Murdoc "winning" all the time, and I still think that's an issue, but you're absolutely right about how they regularly skim over, minimize or make fun of what he goes through. Yes, you can say “he’s just a cartoon character,” but I personally, can’t accept that when I know there are a lot of people out there who have struggled the same way he has, and relate to him. And there is, afaik, no greater social commentary or lesson that comes from this. The point is just to make fun of Murdoc because he sucks. He does suck, but if you want to address his suckiness, address it directly, don't get to a point where the message is "he's done these bad things wrong, therefore he deserves all these other unrelated bad things." If Gorillaz placed more value on story and character arcs, this might be addressed, but alas...it's unlikely at this point.
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IM IN LOVE WITH YOUR BLOG AAAA
Can you do a levi x reader with any format where the reader is badass, a lil bit scary and strong, but when with levi she does cute things that make him want to smile and kiss her then and there. Like holding his sleeve, being clumsy, making random cute noises or obsessing over a random rock
my kind of dumb | levi ackerman
you and levi are two strong soldiers who are weak for each other. as much of an idiot as you are with him, he knows he's much more of an idiot when he's with you because he just lets you be an idiot.
pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader
genre: fluff, crack - this is like the light-hearted version of tired | levi ackerman
warning/s: cursing, mc with a rock is dangerously cute >:(
word count: 1987
omg, really? thank you ! m sorry, it took long, but i finally found time to continue writing!
WHEN I READ THE ROCK PART, ALL I COULD THINK OF WAS LEVI AS ELMO
“No offence, Kirstein but you look like someone who will be in Military Police.” You mused, leaning against a nearby tree.
“Is it because he looks like the horse on their jackets?” Connie piped up from behind a wobbling crate that he was struggling to carry.
“Shut up, baldy!” Jean snarled, dropping his own crate in indignation before whipping his head at you to nervously demand an explanation. “Wait, uh, what do you mean by that?”
“Well, when Jaeger was talking about you and the other 104th cadets, the way he described your personality wasn't exactly... you know, pleasant.” You shrugged, pushing yourself off the tree and lifting twice the amount of containers that they did.
Connie and the other few cadets who are helping with transferring the supplies stared at you in bewilderment as you nonchalantly toss the heavy materials around without breaking a sweat. They started thinking if you actually need their help at all. Truthfully, most of the soldiers just volunteered because it was you who asked.
They seem to hold you in high regard and they weren't wrong to do so. Not only you are one of humanity's aces, but you are also approachable. You are the only superior that doesn't totally scare them off. Granted that a part of you was still intimidating but at least you don't look like you're going to use them as titan baits— not like you'll need it.
“Damn, must be nice being gifted.” One of the soldiers from the back mumbled, earning an elbow to the side from his companion.
You craned your head to the side and stared in their direction and squinted. It looked like you were glaring at them.
“Hn?”
“W– We're sorry, squad leader!” The two men saluted clumsily before scurrying away.
“Huh?” You briefly wondered what those two were apologizing about before staring again at the purple butterfly that flew by, its colour was rare.
“Is he trying to ruin my image or something?” Jean continued to press, scowling at the mere thought of Eren's existence and ignoring everything else.
“Calm down, Jean, s'not like Eren will say anything wrong.” Connie teased, trying to keep himself from snickering which earned him a nasty glare from the other male.
“Don't short circuit on it.” You snorted, amused at the two younger soldiers.
“That bastard! What could he have possibly said about me?!” Jean continued to fume, determined to defend himself in front of a very admirable superior.
“Dunno, can't remember it well. Hey, you both, are you done over there?!”
Jean's jaw dropped. He wanted to clear his name and image because he doesn't want a bad impression on you, and honestly, who would? But then you simply turned away from him and went back to your task as if it didn't matter and he's not sure if that's a good or bad thing.
“Yes, ma'am!” Two female soldiers enthusiastically replied, happy to be acknowledged and not scolded.
You gave them a grateful smirk and checked your list of inventory to wrap things up. Frankly, you meant no harm to Kirstein. You did not care about what you heard about him because you want to see his character on your own before judging him. You just tried to stir a reaction because Levi often complained about how Kirstein and Jaeger have petty, childish fights.
“Go back to work already.” You ordered at the duo of Jean and Connie.
And speaking of Levi, the man was walking towards you and ignoring all other cadets who proudly saluted at him. The cadets felt giddy. They're not only seeing one super-soldier but two. Some stared at Levi in awe but most were full of fear. You waved at the approaching man with your clipboard, meeting him halfway.
“Hey, what're you here for?” You smiled at him, placing the checklist on top of a nearby crate.
“You didn't eat breakfast earlier. We're going to the mess hall for early lunch.” He flatly said, leaving no room for protest.
“Eh? We're not done yet though.” You reasoned. “Don't worry, we're almost finished—”
“These brats can do a task as basic as this. And if they can't, they'll be sent to the fields.” Levi fixed his emotionless stare at the frozen cadets who watched the two of you interact.
“Well, probably but...” You pursed your lips and looked at your group of soldiers, too.
You know they're trustworthy enough but you don't want to dump your job at them. The others noticed your unease and decided to shout their own assurances.
“We'll be fine, Squad Leader [Last Name]!”
“Yeah, don't worry about us!”
“We will do our best!”
“Scout's honour!”
Levi stared down at you with a look that said ‘I told you so’.
“Fine, fine.” You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully. “Kirstein, I'm leaving you in charge.”
“Holy shi— I mean— Yes, ma'am!” Jean saluted stiffly, turning around proudly and trying not to seem too boastful in front of two superiors.
You turned your back at the cadets with Levi, giving one last wave before walking away together.
When the two of you were far enough to have privacy, you reached out a hand to grasp at the cuff of his sleeve softly. You touched your cheek on his shoulder and looked at him with your doe eyes.
“You're so mean to our fellow soldiers sometimes.” You spoke, speech slightly slurred with the way your cheek was pressed against him.
Levi rolled his eyes and shook off your hand that held his sleeve. As painfully adorable as your quirk of holding his sleeves, he wanted to hold your hand. He replaced the sleeve with his own palm instead and you immediately intertwined your fingers together.
“Those idiots won't do a decent job if you don't get strict with them. They're being too comfortable.” Levi scoffed, letting you swing your hand with his.
“Hmm, I guess so. Say, do you think butterflies— ack!” Your random question was cut off when you tripped on grass, a grass (which was your way of defending yourself because you totally didn't trip over your own feet), and face-planting straight on the soil when accidentally let go of Levi's hand.
“Oi, are you alright? Damn idiot.” Your dark-haired companion hid the slight panic in his voice well because he is, unfortunately, used to something like this.
You didn't answer him. Levi stared. You laid there for a couple more seconds. Levi crouched down to check if you hit your head that hard. Suddenly, you brought yourself up quickly, your head nearly hitting him square on the jaw if he hadn't reacted fast enough.
“Hey, do you think butterflies fly at petals because they look like other butterflies waiting for their soulmates?” You asked, seemingly more excited than before like nothing happened, like you were just really lying on your stomach on a soft patch of grass cozily.
Levi breathed deeply and suppressed the urge to rub his temples. You two are far from being butterflies yet he found you without waiting. Maybe you are a pretty butterfly so you came to him. He won't tell you that though.
“Dumbass, they're not attracted to the petals. They come to flowers for pollen and nectar.” Levi stated, actually unsure of his answer because he didn't have the privilege of education as a kid before turning his back to you and continued walking. “Now, come on, we're wasting time.”
“Eh?” You just blinked at his retreating form.
You didn't follow him. You didn't even stand up. Instead, your focus was caught by something that for some reason, stood out in your eyes. You grabbed the little thing and held it under the sun, smiling at its appearance.
Levi who slowed down his walking so you'll be able to catch up immediately noticed that you didn't follow him fast enough. And then his [Name] senses told him that you weren't planning on catching up to him anytime soon. He exasperatedly trudged back to where you were and saw you crouching on the grass. Levi narrowed his eyes.
“[Name], get off the ground. It's filthy— is that a fucking rock?”
He momentarily paused in his steps, face contorting incredulously. You fully faced him and held out the object in front of you to show that it is, in fact, not a rock but a stone. A pretty one at that.
Levi stared at the rock in your hand, then back at your face with his mouth slightly agape. He blinked once, twice, and finally decided to compose himself. He raised a brow, jaw almost opening again because he still can't believe what is happening and raised a brow to ask why, why do you have a rock?
“...”
“...”
“...It's smooth.” You mumbled, answering his unasked query as you clutched the stone almost shyly. “Plus the colour's nice. It's got white specks in it.”
“That's dirty.” Levi sighed, already knowing there's no winning this nonexistent argument.
“It's okay, I can wash it.” You declared proudly, earning a facepalm from the man.
“[Name].” He called sternly but it didn't affect you at all.
“Yeah?” You just tilted your head so innocently while petting that stupid rock and Levi wanted nothing but to swallow it so you'll stop giving it attention.
No, he's not jealous of a rock. That's fucking dumb. But if it meant wasting your precious time that he managed to stole from working with other cadets, he's not going to have it.
“Get up already.” He strongly clasped your wrist and pulled you up with enough force so you won't be able to resist but not enough to hurt you.
“Oof!”
And not to yours and Levi's surprise, your feet caught on another... grass. Once again, you lose your balance but instead of soil, you landed straight onto Levi's toned chest that you could feel under his clothes. He caught you with ease, wrapping his arms perfectly around your waist to secure you.
“Hi.” You greeted, chin resting on his chest as you hugged him back.
“Klutz.” Levi rolled his eyes while his lips formed a small smile as he pats your head.
He gently pushed you off of him but didn't let go of your hand. Funnily enough, it was the hand that still holds the dumb rock. Levi opened your palm and almost scrunched his nose at the sight of the object. Never had he been so infuriated over something so insignificant.
“You're really going to keep that thing?” He grimaced, glaring at the rock in disgust.
“No.” You answered shortly and Levi was about to sigh in relief until you started speaking again. “You are.”
You left the stone in his hand. He stood there frozen, and if you weren't you, he would've thrown it at your face. But because you're [Name], all he wants to do is forget about that stupid rock and kiss your stupidly cute face—
“It reminds me of the colour of your eyes.” You admitted with a tiny grin, tilting your head slightly on the side.
Levi's grey eyes widened a fraction for a split second before clicking his tongue and turning his head away from you so quickly, you thought he might crack his neck. You nearly squealed when he grasped your wrist once more and started dragging you to the mess hall without a word.
You didn't dare ask him anything because you know Levi didn't like to talk. But that didn't stop you from wondering what the hell has gotten into him that he speed-walked out of nowhere. Meanwhile, Levi just refused to let you see the heat that somehow travelled to his face. You've done far cheesier things, unknowingly and not, he should be used to this. So he doesn't know why in the world is he flustered now.
Levi wanted to laugh. You're stupid. The rock, no, the stone is stupid. And he, too, is stupid— stupidly in love with you, that is.
requests are open!
- love, zari
#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#aot x you#aot imagines#snk x reader#snk imagines#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#levi x you#soft levi#levi ackerman fluff#x reader
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bunny, bunny
pairing: friend!yunho x fem reader
gerne: pwp (im sorry), uni au, friends to friends with benefits
wc: 1.8k
synopsis: when your friend and you ended up in a bed in between each other’s thighs, your friendship was in danger of being disrupted. thankfully, you two came up with a solution…
warnings: cock warming, public play, exhibitionism, grinding, descriptions of past sex scenes, use of pet names, orgasm control? a little praise and a little degrading thrown in too because why not
authors note: this is not proof read and I wrote it at 1am please be kind <3
—
It was a summery afternoon, Yunho and you spend it per usual at the park near campus, studying for your final exams. The last rays of sunshine shining though the pine trees that spend shade to the entire space decked in greenery and flowers. It was especially quiet at this time, which was the reason you went there regularly. Yet the specific place in the very back spend and enormous amount of silence that the both of you enjoyed thoroughly.
But despite the breeze that fanned over your legs and arms, your insides were burning. As if someone poured hot chili sauce in your gut, focus not present and the notes you compared and tried to burn into your memory were wasted efforts. The burn inside churning your stomach in all shapes, trying to sit still - but to no avail.
Why? Because your friend right next to you railed you last weekend, and since then acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you. Never had you ever thought of him like that, but ever since it happened, you couldn’t pull your mind off it. It was a thought chain that disrupted every effort to study, reimagining the things that went down in his bed. But anytime you tried to hint at it or even talk about the incident, he avoided it, changed the topic, or even flat out pretended he didn’t know what you were referring to. And it was exhausting. You were even considering forgetting about the whole thing to continue on with your friendship and not to get the mush of sexual fantasies and your blatant neediness between that.
But still, you thought about it. You couldn’t not think about it. Never had anyone… fucked you the way he did.
“I love the way your boobs bounce, the way you clench around me like that- fuck, like that. You feel so snug around my cock, so good bunny. Just for me.”
Panting. Moaning. Maintaining your rhythm. Repeat. He stretched your walls so well, the constant dragging against your velvet walls make you go crazy. Orgasm pending as your legs got more tired, yet trying your best to continue riding your friend.
“Dumb little bunny, getting tired already? Don’t you want to cum?” He teased, seeing and feeling your struggle, releasing a incoherent chain of moans and complaints. His smirk still ever present on his lips, clearly enjoying himself. After a few more attempts on continuing to get your release on him, he rolled over to change your positions, moments before your thigh muscles would have given out.
“Bunny, answer when I ask you something. Do you wanna cum on my dick, huh? I guess you don’t want to then…” he provoked, knowing exactly what he was doing while slowing his movements. “Yun, no! No I wanna cum, please don’t stop, I’m begging you, please please please, I’m just a dumb little bunny. Make me cum, please Yunho. I need-“ he muffled your pleas with his giant hand, pushing his fingers against your tongue while snapping his hips harder then before, sounds of skin slapping filling the room. Crying as he gifted you with your well earned orgasm.
“Snap out of it, Y/N. You’re off somewhere in Dreamland.” his deep voice woke you from the depth of your naughty mind.
“Fuck- Yunho! Don’t startle me like that!” Playfully hitting his arm as you try to compose yourself again and at least pretend to study, so you can find an excuse to get home and take care of the blinding ache that was slowly bubbling up in between your legs.
Yunho got another book out of his backpack, flipping through the pages as he side eyed you again and again. “What did you think about? You’re been really distant today, I’m almost offended.” His voice sounded calm. And yes, he was right, you acted strange - but to your defense, you didn’t know what the late events made you two. Mind rattling without coming to a conclusion, you simply sighed and looked up from your study material. Rolling over from laying on your stomach, to now rest on your back and searching for Yunho’s attention.
“Yunho, I don’t - no I can’t anymore. You idiot make me crazy, all I can think about is you fucking me and I can’t get this image out of my head. And I can’t stand how you keep on pretending it never happened. I hate this so much. I cannot get over it, and you certainly don’t help with your whole spiel.” words hitting him square in the chest, and even while they came out more forceful than you imagined in your head, it seemed to work in your favor… well more or less…
“Bunny, bunny, if you want me to touch you, just tell me. I can tell by the way your thighs rub together…”
“That’s not what I mean Yunho. You’re doing it right now, again! You’re avoiding the issue at hand, and if you don’t man up I’ll leave until you grow a pair of balls.” You shake your head, denying your arousal pooling in favor of getting your point across. His features turned serious for a moment. Closing your eyes in frustration and hiding your face behind your fingers to avoid his stare boring through your skull. But before he said anything, you felt something along your legs-
“You’re too riled up. But let’s talk this though if it bothers you - which it clearly does. But before that-“ his fingers traveled up until they felt the damp material of your panties, moving it to the side to push his own digits in. Mentally cursing at your choice to wear a skirt today of all days. “- let’s relax. Please, just sit up.”
Trying your hardest to keep any signs of newly found ecstasy to yourself, one hand moving in and out of your hole, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you up from your lying position and bring you onto his lap. His chest pressing against your back, his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. Whispering, only for you to hear “good bunny, now-“ he pulled his fingers out of you, which contracted a short whine from your end, and despite trying your best to play coy, you failed. Feeling a grin on his face as he continued to work you up. One hand untucking his half-hard member out of his sweatpants. Your mind went blank as you felt him teasing your entrance, hands searching for him to stop.
“Yunho, we’re in public, someone will see us. Please-“ you whine, slowly loosing control of yourself and almost grinding against him, begging for stimulation. Without answering, he slipped inside effortlessly thanks to your arousal that drenched your core. Lewd moans leaving you as his grip found your hips again, holding you close to him, while not giving you a chance to fuck yourself on him.
At this point all the built up composure was thrown out the window and you tried your hardest to get any stimulation from him, which his death grip on you prevented. “Stop clenching, let’s talk.” He commented, not letting up on you. Brows furrowed in confusion while glancing back at him.
“I didn’t expect you to be this needy for me in public. It explains a lot. But in all seriousness…” he started, and despite everything, you could think clear thoughts again, his rough touch comforting you in a way. “Let’s talk it through.”
Deep sighs escaped while chewing on the inside of your cheek. “You know, I don’t know. It was all so awkward since we… you know, did it. I don’t want to loose our friendship but at the same time my mind is filled with you. But not my friend from Uni-Yunho, instead it’s just ‘bunny looks so good doing this and that’-Yunho.” You found it surprisingly easier to talk your mind without having to look into his eyes. But your voice was thin and could break off any moment to turn into whispers.
“I’m- I don’t know what to say, honestly. Did I ever make you feel uncomfortable, or push you to do things you’re not okay with?” He asked out of the blue, and you shook your head vehemently at his question. His grip on your hips let up, feeling that his hold may cause a few bruises, but that was the last of your concerns. “Never. If it did, we would have never gone that far. You know me, I’m quick to reject people when I feel iffy.”
A soft, breathy laugh left him and you felt his warm breath against your neck. “I know. Suppose I’m lucky then.” Hands coming back to lift you off his cock, and you turned around to face him. Slowly sinking back onto him and finding his hands once you bottomed out.
You both were nervous about this, but nonetheless you were determined to get this topic over with, to come to a conclusion. A proper result to see where you both stand at.
“I have a proposal then.“ he spoke, hands leaving yours again to hold you and make you sink onto his boner once again, this time moaning louder than the first time, and a heat crawled up your neck and cheeks. “What if we…“ he guided you up and down, your hands frantically grabbing onto his shirt to deal with the sudden stimulation. Tiny groans tumbling from his lips as well, “Let’s keep this casual. Make it our thing. We don’t have to get caught up with any feelings or attachments. We can simply keep going as friends, and when… you know. We get desperate, we can play with each other.” He suggested while keeping a steady rythym, bucking his hips ever so perfectly, hitting your spots better than anyone before him did.
“Are you suggesting that we- oh fuck! T-that we… become friends with benefits? Mmmh- you sure about this?” trying your hardest to talk properly without drawing too much attention to your situation. Even if any bystander wouldn’t think you were getting off in public, your skirt hiding both of your private regions perfectly. Your sounds and movements would prove anyone otherwise.
Yunho slowly but surely slacked off and stilled his movements while staying snug inside you again. “That’s what I’m saying. You think you can do that?”
In all honesty, this newly found confidence surprised you, but it suited him so well, ever since becoming intimate with him. And having this side of Yunho, alongside a normal friendship, a friendship you cherished and celebrated? Where he still was that funny, yet slightly clumsy and sarcastic person? It seemed like a jackpot.
Breathily, leaning your forehead against his, and nodding at his suggestion. “I can. I want to. I mean, I wanna try this thing with you. Please-“
Suddenly, lips slotting against your own sloppily. Hands touching you everywhere, heavy breathing and panting.
“Let’s take this back to the dorms then, bunny. Be good and I’ll make you cum as much as you want. Sounds good?”
—
#ateez#ateez au#ateez fic#ateez writing#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez suggestive#ateez yunho#yunho x reader
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Aight’ Bet
Hi this is my first time posting on here so I hope whoever is reading this enjoys!! This is a noritoshi kamo x reader where the nori and (Y/N) need a little push from their wonderful Gojo sensei to finally confess~
"Dont you think (Y/N) and noritoshi would make the cutest couple!?" Gojo screamed over the phone to Utahime who sighed in response.
"I can't help but disagree Gojo, Noritoshi doesn't seem ready for a relationship plus is the only reason you rang me really to discuss our students non existent love lives?" Utahime retorted knowing that the couple would in fact be adorable yet refusing to accept that Gojo could actually be right about something.
"No Utahime! I bet if them two were able to spend a few hours together the tension would build up so high that one of them would burst and BAM a couple would be born" the blue eyed male replied, the volume of his voice increasing with each word trying to convince her that they were the highschool sweethearts the jujustu world needed.
“How could you even say that!? I get that its cute whenever they glance at each other and shy away with cute little blushing cheeks but i bet it would take more than a few hours for a whole relationship to-” “OH you bet“ Gojo interrupted an obvious smirk on his face knowing Utahime wouldn’t back down from his advances.
“you know what i meant idiot i wasn’t actually trying to make a bet with you especially after what happened last time” the black haired woman scoffed after hearing a chuckle through the phone.
“Aight’ bet! tomorrow ill bring my second years to kyoto for some training and then lets see if something happens between our precious students“ Gojo proposed excitedly as if he were a child in a sweet shop.
“you know what fine! and im only agreeing cause i know nothings gonna happen tomorrow between them i mean noritoshi is too stiff and (Y/N) always backs out last minute” utahime exclaimed not wanting to prove Gojo right. “GREAT! if i win then you will have to be my slave for 2 whole days and if you win ill be your-” “wait i never agreed to that!” “see ya tomorrow then!” Gojo had quickly rushed his farewells before hanging up relieved he avoided Utahime’s lecture.
"Alright class!" Gojo sensei yelled excitingly as he burst through the doors. This overgrown man child always had something new, it could never be a regular class where his students actually learn then were let out for a break. No Gojo Satorou had to be the most extra male on this earth and for the first time ever it worked in his second year student (Y/N)'s favour.
"What it is now?" Maki groaned with an annoyed expression on her face. No one could blame her though after all the blindfolded man put his beloved students through. "Don't be so sour maki! Be like me a sweet little mochi~ Oh and before I forget I wanted to let you all know that we will meeting with our lovely sister school for some training. Isnt that great!?" Gojo sensei had announced clapping his hands and smiling brightly.
'I wonder if training is all this is' (Y/N) thought to herself realising how sus this situation was before speaking out "wait Gojo sensei weren't we meant to learn a super secret technique today? You said that you were gonna show it us yesterday and that nothing could stop you" (Y/N) questioned as Inumaki gave a little "shake" for support.
"Well my dear (Y/N) something VERY important has come up and we must go to kyoto immediately. You have no right to deny and we will be leaving in 30 minutes so go grab whatever you kids need" Gojo sensei had practically sung before skipping out the door. What an odd man everyone collectively thought before getting up to grab whatever they needed.
30 minutes has passed and in that time panda had gathered his and maki's weapons while you and toge stocked up on cough medicine and basic medical equipment. The journey was short since Gojo had practically teleported you all there and all that was left was to approach the students.
A few figures from the distance were slowly coming into view and (Y/N) could vaguely make out that only utahime, miwa, mai, momo and noritoshi had attended this last minute joint training.
Despite the others reaching and gathering around your small group of second years giving their greetings the only thing your eyes could focus on was noritoshi’s thick black hair as it gently swayed in the breeze. Honestly it was as if the man was in a L'Oréal advert or something.
"(Y/N) stop staring we all know you both have this weird thing going on but we're here to train not flirt dumbass" Maki had whispered into your ear but little did she know that you were in fact here to flirt and not train due to a certain bet between two teachers.
“alright kids listen up! me and the wonderful Utahime sensei have set up this last minute training as its always good to train with new people and techniques. Everyone will be working in pairs“ Gojo announced before Utahime continued.
“The teams we decided on today will be Maki and Miwa, Momo and Imumaki, Panda and Mai then (Y/N) and Noritoshi. Eveyones free to do whatever they want in their sparring matches just don’t severely injure each other, me and Gojo will be watching over the matches and determine the winners“ Utahime informed all the students before they scurried off to in different spaced out areas.
"So Noritoshi how are you? Its been a while since we've last seen eachother" (Y/N) said trying not to let her nervousness show.
"I'm alright just studying and training to be honest. Although I recently started to practice cursive and can even write my own name now" he responded with pride and a small nice.
You laughed causing Noritoshi to cock his head to the side in confusion. "Is there something wrong with cursive?" His deep voice asked with clear offense.
"No no it's just that's so freaking cute and you look so happy about it too" (Y/N) teased with more laughter and ruffled his hair
"Oi don't touch my hair do you know how long it takes to do these wrap bang things?"
"Well how would I know I've never done them nori"
"Well one day I could teach you if you'd like" Noritoshi offered looking to the side trying to hide his red cheeks.
"Aww I'd love that I'm awful at doing hair to be honest so learning some new styles would be great but first we gotta get this dumb sparring match over and done with" (Y/N) moaned as she got into position.
_______________________________
An hour had flew by and the students were taking a break from their matches happily chatting away while the teachers spoke in private about their progress. “come on look at the way they look at eachother OH (Y/N) touched his shoulder SHES FLIRTIN-” “GOJO SHUT THE FUCK UP YOUR SO DAMN LOUD” “sorry but loooook they in love” Gojo cried out with fake tears in his cerulean eyes
“Alright lets just observe look theyre going to the vending machine to get some drinks like FRIENDS DO“ Utahime emphasised on the friends worried she might lose and become this awful mans slave for 2 days.
_______________________________
“Nori im gonna go get a drink from the vending machine do you want one?” “Actually ill just come with you if you dont mind” “OH sure thats fine does anyone else want anything!?” (Y/N) yelled to the whole group receiving a choir of get me this please or get me that and the single tuna mayo.
The walk to the vending machine was quiet but a comfortable silence had fallen upon the pair. It was always like this when you were around Noritoshi Kamo. Peaceful. She didnt feel the need to go the extra mile to entertain him or ensure he wasn’t bored in your presence as your playful banter and sarcastic remarks towards one another was enough for the both of you.
“(Y/N) is it me or have Gojo and Utahime sensei been staring at us more than the others?“ Noritoshi questioned unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. “Um i’m not too sure i havent been really paying attention to anything other than yo-“ Embarrasment washed over (Y/N) as the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
“Is that so?“ Nori smirked slightly as you swore you could drop dead right here in this moment. “No i just meant that” “Meant what?“ Noritoshi interrupted leaning closer as you fumbled through your words
“OH LOOK the vending machine is right there better get those drinks“ You quickly said and scrambled away before Noritoshi could get any closer.
“SEE Nori was too intimidating and (Y/N) ran off despite clearly wanting him! its never gonna happen today“ Utahime whispered to Gojo benhind the bushes as he shook his head. “Trust me i have faith in my wonderful (Y/N) I AINT RAISED NO BITCH“ He exclaimed in response while Utahime facepalmed.
The two young adults had collected all the drinks they needed and were ready to walk back to the group. ‘come on (Y/N) you’ve liked this man forever now and everyone knows he must like you back ITS NOW OR NEVER HOE’ (Y/N) screamed words of encouragement to herself before grabbing Noritoshi’s sleeve.
“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” “I have something ive been meaning to tell you Nori, I um like you a lot and i’d like to take you out if you dont mind” (Y/N) had practically yelled at the poor boy because of her stupid nerves and adrenaline.
The silence was broken by an angelic laughter coming from none other than Noritoshi Kamo. “Well i would’ve liked to be the one to take you out but i guess sometimes its alright for traditions and stereotypes to be broken by the younger generation” Nori responded as he walked closer to (Y/N) wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a sweet kiss. The kiss was messy and clearly new to the both but filled with much love and passion that was finally being expressed by the pair.
As their lips eventually pulled away never wanting this to end, heavy breaths filled the air and cheeks flushed but all that was interrupted by a white haired male clapping in the background screaming “YES I WIN” while the other teacher crouched to the ground tears in her eyes.
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❥iwaizumi hajime x reader
❥summary: continuation to this fmk
❥warnings: n/a
❥word count: 0.9k
❣︎@chagi-nana: Heyy, you think you could ever do an aftermath for that fmk that you did kill for Iwazume with a happy ending, pretty pleasee??? I'm so sorry, I forgot to mention which fmk of Iwazume was, is the one where y/n confessed to him, but he told Oikawa and he told everyone that y/n was rejected, if you feel that you can do it I'll be really grateful 💜💜 (Why am I so attracted to your angst ? Help me, is just too good 🥺)
im so happy you like my angst, I hope you enjoy this!!! <33
a bitterness lingers every time you lock eyes with iwaizumi hajime’s olive eyes. just last week butterflies would flutter in your stomach, a tingling feeling pulsating through your veins and warmth would fill your cheeks just thinking about him and now it was nothing but cold dread.
embarrassing. the ace had done nothing but humiliated you, left you a laughing stock in front of your whole school because everyone knew who he was and everyone knew you were the dumb girl who’d confessed to him with your pathetic box of chocolates and the letter you’d spilled your heart into- your heart that iwaizumi had done nothing but crush. it didn’t help that two of his friends sat behind you in biology, their amused eyes burning into the back of your head and their soft snickers ringing in your head. every time you had to pass iwaizumi too, pretending not to see him with your eyes trained on the ground, you’d hear his best friend oikawa tōru sing his name lightly, voice permeated with a sneering giggle that only made your cheeks burn more. it didn’t help that your best friend had given you a sympathetic smile and what she thought was an encouraging hug, gently telling you that you deserve much better anyway because really all you want is iwaizumi hajime.
most girls would be besotted with oikawa. not you. you attended every match not being able to tear your eyes away from the ace, watching every drip of sweat roll off his handsome face gritted with determination as he slammed down those volleyballs, breaking through the most hardest blocks. the witty insults he’ll snarl to oikawa always has you giggling and his kindness in class to you when you could barely muster out the courage to speak to him always had your heart thudding with nothing but adoration.
but he ruined it all. he didn’t just reject you, making you realise you’re simply not good enough for him. but he’d told everyone to, and now you feel nothing but stupid for ever thinking you could have a chance with iwaizumi hajime. how pathetic.
“hey.” you freeze at the sound of the familiar deep voice, swallowing hard as you slowly shut your locker. iwaizumi.
he smiles at you, a semblance of awkwardness evident in his face and his tanned cheeks tinged pink as he shuffles his weight awkwardly from side to side. you can’t say anything- you don’t even know what to say as you swallow the thick lump in your throat. “are you walking home? can i walk you?” you can’t hold back the frown of confusion that paints over your face as you stare at him in shock but he looks slightly hopeful, olive eyes widened as he awaits your answer.
“i- yeah. okay.”
the two of you set off in silence, the late afternoon sun painting the quiet streets golden in her light. you’re not sure what to say- it hurts to be walking beside him, your hands bumping together but he doesn’t move his away, but your stomach still fluttering, your heart still pumping fast with hope.
“wait here.” iwaizumi says suddenly and you’re left waiting outside a convenience store momentarily before he returns with a bag of meat buns and bottles of juice. mango. your favourite- the flavour you told him once during an icebreaker right at the start of the school year. the aroma makes your mouth water and he chuckles when you lick your lips hungrily, your feet trailing after him as he leads you to a bench and offers you the bag first.
“i’m sorry.” he says as your teeth sink into the bun and suddenly you don’t want to eat anymore. you can’t even look at him, your smile fading as you force yourself to chew the food but it tastes of cardboard and iwaizumi sighs heavily with frustration. “i shouldn’t have told shittykawa- i should’ve known that idiot can’t keep his mouth shut, but it isn’t like how you think it is.”
“then how is it, iwaizumi?” your chest twinges with regret when your voice sounds so hard and cold, enough to make a crease appear between iwaizumi’s brows.
“i didn’t tell oikawa to embarrass you. i wanted his advice because...well, i regretted rejecting you.”
your eyes widen as you splutter, choking on the morsel of food and iwaizumi’s eyes widen as he quickly pats your back. you gasp for breath.
“what?”
“yeah,” he nods, rubbing your back soothingly as you blink back the tears that have stung your eyes. “in the moment i just thought it was some sort of joke.” he scoffs to himself and you’re surprised to see him look embarrassed for once as he glances away. “i was so used to every girl only ever liking oikawa that i didn’t think you’d like me for me. and then i went home and i couldn’t stop thinking about you and i read the letter and…” he trails off with a shy smile tugging at his lips. “well, that’s when i realised i fucked up big.”
your heart is thumping, warmth flooding through you when iwaizumi pulls out a box of chocolates and an envelope from his bag.
“here’s my apology and this is me asking you now.” a smile stretches across your face as you take it from him, letting your fingers graze his as you giggle.
“hajime, you didn’t have to.” you mumbled.
“yes i did. i fucked up so of course you deserve a proper apology.” he says sternly before he smiles. “do you accept?”
“of course i do. it’s you!”
#iwaizumi imagines#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi x y/n#iwaizumi fluff#iwaizumi drabble#haikyuu drabble#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff
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Hi, I love your blog and asking about opinions on characters... so, if you had to rank the great comet characters from smartest to dumbest, how would the order go?
(side note, I listened to “Moscow” today, and after knowing the whole plot of the story, hearing Marya D. call Natasha “clever,” made me laugh. I love Nat, but she uses her heart way more than her head.)
Omg thank you so much!! I love love love getting asks and i literally can't believe my opinion on stuff matters to people- I've actually been wanting to do this anyway!!
[Disclaimer: don't come for me ok plz this is for fun] and without further ado,
The Dumbass Scale of Natasha, Pierre, & The Great Comet of 1812 (smartest to dumbest)
1. Hélène Bezukhova. She may seem like just another idiotic, self-centered socialite at first, but Hélène is a master manipulator. She somehow convinced Pierre to marry her when they clearly don't love each other and probably never have, got Natasha to come to the ball, got two dudes to fucking shoot at each other over her, and is generally the queen of society.
2. Fedya Dolokhov. I know, I know, I'm biased because he's my favorite, but he's definitely smart. Even if we exclude the Narrator Dolokhov Theory(TM), he still organized an entire elopement, which would've gone off without a hitch had Sonya not found out. He's clearly good with people, since he's so high in society, was able to rustle up 10,000 rubles, etc. Oh also he's a legit ASSASSIN-
3. Sonya Rostova. Sonya is pretty damn astute, and although she didn't notice the signs of the plan immediately, She realized soon enough, and just by the changes in Natasha's demeanor. Her observations, determination, and quick thinking was enough to throw a wrench into Dolokhov's entire plan.
4. Marya D. Marya's got a no-nonsense air about her that comes with people who don't have time for bullshit. She knows her way around Moscow, and everyone would rather smash their head into a wall than tell her otherwise. Despite being an older woman with no title, Marya is highly respected and even a little feared, moreso than some of the more powerful socialites. She's great at commanding attention.
5. Pierre Bezukhov. I know you probably expected him higher on this list, but this man is kind of an idiot. He's very book-smart, with the ridiculous amount of studying he does, but that's about it. He somehow failed to put the pieces together that Natasha was Anatole's new girl, and we all know how he was in Letters. My dude was going a little insane. "Most dear, most kind, most smart," not sure about that third one, guys.
6. Mary Bolkonskaya. Mary's a bit of a tricky one to place, seeing as she's probably intelligent, but the fact that she obeys so dutifully to her asshole of a father kind of overcomes most of it. It's one thing to have intelligence, it's another thing entirely to put it to use. She allows herself to be walked over constantly. Still love my girl though, sweet baby does NOT deserve this.
7. Old Prince Bolkonsky. Also incredibly hard to place, and you probably expected to be lower on this list. He's literally fucking insane, but somehow retains the knowledge needed to manipulate and shame Mary into doing what he wants. He's got an unshakable amount of cunning to him. Also, he's got enough brainpower to 'utter scathing critiques,' on the fly, which isn't that easy. Comebacks are an art, dude.
8. Anatole Kuragin. Do I even need to explain myself? Anatole is a gigantic fucking idiot. Dumb boy. Stupid. Anatole "nevermind the fact that im married, im now in love with this girl ive known for 3 days, we're going to run away now, lend me 50 rubles" Kuragin has no brain. None. Zero. Except for maaaybe his way of charming people, but honestly that doesn't seem like he's putting in effort there. He's just really pretty.
9. Natasha Rostova. Somehow has even LESS brain than Anatole. Honey, I love you, but you're stupid. You actually need to work to be this stupid, it's almost impressive. I still love you with my entire heart though.
People not placed on the chart:
Andrey Bolkonsky- we really don't see enough of him for me to get a solid understanding of his idiot-genius ratio.
Balaga- you try and place Balaga on here and see how that works for you, it's literally impossible to put him in any box. He'd break out and blow up a walmart or something.
#great comet#fedya dolokhov#fyodor dolokhov#great comet meme#anatole kuragin#helene bezukhova#mary bolkonskaya#marya d#natasha rostova#old prince bolkonsky#natasha pierre & the great comet of 1812#nptgco1812#got another ask!!#ranking characters#ranking great comet characters
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six. she likes someone else, idiot.
oikawa tooru x fem langa!reader
(hq x sk8 the infinity)
warnings: spelling mistakes, swearing, 2k+ words, u have langa’s blue hair sorry
gen masterlist. “snow” masterlist.
"as promised, here we are" oikawa greeted her as she opened the door to reveal him and iwaizumi. "good morning " she greeted them with a bubbly smile "hey" iwaizumi nodded at her.
"oh, you're not skating today, y/n-chan?" oikawa hummed "well, i don't want to accidentally leave you behind again" she said as she closed the door behind her. oikawa sweat dropped and nodded along "how thoughtful" he chuckled
"here's your coffee, oikawa-san" she had a determined look on her face as she hands him the beverage in a disposable cup
"oh... yes.. my coffee" oikawa deeply inhaled a breath of air and took it from her. "thank you, y/n-chan. i didnt think you were serious about it, though" oikawa laughed as he took a sip of the coffee
"oh, well i thought you'd be bummed if i forgot a promise" she said
as soon as she looked away, oikawa gagged and shuddered, making iwaizumi sweat drop and look at him in concern. "dude what the hell?" iwaizumi deadpanned
as y/n looked back at them, oikawa's dread filled expression quickly changed into one of delight as he happily chugged down the drink
"haha, i was just amazed at this coffee!" oikawa exclaimed with a grin "and y/n-chan made it so its extra special!"
"oh, that's great!" y/n cheered as oikawa gave her a thumbs up paired with a wink "im glad you like it"
"yup! looking forward to the next one tomorrow" oikawa chuckled
iwaizumi watched the whole thing go down with a look of bewilderment. he was just about done with these two and their shenanigans. "dude.." iwaizumi muttered as he watched oikawa gulp the whole thing down "why're you doing this.."
oikawa turned to him with a grin and clocked his head to the side "what do you mean, iwa-chan?" he asked "i told you, y/n-chan made it so its extra special!" oikawa said with a laugh as he threw the cup away at a random trash can
iwaizumi's eyes widened as he watched his friend jog over to the girl and happily start up a conversation
"jesus christ.." iwaizumi sighed "i don't know if him being like this is a good thing or not.."
now, its no secret that y/n was attractive. her features were head turning. and her eyes alone could bring a grown man to their knees. she was quite captivating, to say the least.
so it shouldn't come as a surprise if boys and girls start flocking around her for the same purpose.
to have her as their girlfriend. what else?
"hey, hasegawa-chan" a boy greeted her as she exited the classroom. "oh. hello.." she replied with a hint of confusion
"are you free today? if you want, i would love to treat you to some snacks after school" the boy said with a nervous chuckle. "oh, thank you but.. i have club duties after school." she said "maybe some other time"
she then walked away from the boy, absolutely clueless to the fact the she was just asked out on a date.
from inside the room, oikawa watched the whole thing go down with a look of distaste. "hey, hey, iwa-chan!" he slapped iwaizumi's arm. "that boy just flirted with y/n-chan, look!"
iwaizumi spared him a glance before looking back down at his comic. "i know, shittykawa." he sighed "its no big deal anyways. she declined, didn't she?" he said
"it doesn't matter! people are trying to steal her before i could even exit the friend zone!" oikawa exclaimed "actually, im not sure if im even in the friend zone yet!" he pulled at his hair in distress
"i told her we'd be best friends in the future but that means we're not right now, right?!"
"you're thinking too much, shittykawa" iwaizumi sighed as he pushed him off his desk, since he was hitting his head repeatedly against the wood
"im gonna follow her and shoo the boys away" oikawa perked up with a determined look on his face. "dont do that" iwaizumi grunted in annoyance. "and you look stupid. your forehead has a red spot now, dumbass"
"actually, what if i ask her out before they do?" oikawa hummed thoughtfully to himself.
"you did that already. didn't she say she has the 'boyfriend spot' reserved for someone?" iwaizumi raised a brow
"whatever im gonna follow her" oikawa waved him off. "dont do that-- and he's gone." iwaizumi merely sighed as he watched oikawa rush out of the door
"now.. who is that ugly guy?" oikawa muttered to himself as he watched a boy flusteredly hand y/n a letter
"h-hasegawa-san..this is for you!" the boy exclaimed as he handed her the letter without making any eye contact. "oh.. its a letter" she muttered as she went to open it
"no! uh- read it later when you're alone.." the boy stammered out "it's a bit embarrassing for me" he said. "oh, okay then" y/n simply nodded and put it in her pocket. "goodbye" she said as she walked away
"right! bye, hasegawa-san!" the boy nervously waved
oikawa sweat dropped as the boy looked at her with a lovesick grin even though she just straight up ignored him and walked off. well it's not like he has room to say anything. he's the exact same, if not, maybe even worse.
"tch. hey" oikawa called out to the boy.
"me..?" the boy muttered in confusion as he pointed to himself. "yeah you" oikawa raised a brow as he judgingly looked him up and down "why'd you give y/n-chan a letter?" he scowled
"oh well i -" before the boy could finish oikawa laughed at him in a mocking way. "yeah yeah, save your voice. it's not like i'll listen to you anyways" he said with his usual charismatic smile
"but don't do that again, okay~" oikawa cooed "y/n-chan doesn't need a boy toy like you! but maybe try with another girl!" he suggested
he patted the boy's shoulder and waved him goodbye "good luck~" he cooed. the boy watched oikawa walk off with a look of dread and confusion. "what the hell, man?" the boy muttered
"now, where is she-- another one?!" oikawa groaned to himself as he watched y/n receive another gift
except this time, it was a from a girl in the first year who was shakingly handing her a bento with a cutesy note "hasegawa-senpai..! um- this is for you" the girl said as she shyly presented her the neatly wrapped lunch box
"i made it myself, i hope you like it!" she said with a bow before hastily running off with an alarmingly red face. "..?" y/n cocked her head to the side as she waved the girl goodbye "thank you..?" she muttered
she opened the bento slightly and gasped in awe at the food
"no! don't be swayed by the food, y/n-chan!" oikawa silently screamed to himself "its a trick!"
y/n then closed it and continued to walk away.
"yes! she wasn't swayed by the food. that was close" oikawa let out a sigh if relief as he placed his hand over his pounding chest. "maybe i should cook her food from now on" he muttered as he took a mental note for future use.
"now--" before he could move another inch, he was suddenly crowded by girls that came out of nowhere. literally.
"oikawa-senpai!" "oikawa-senpai, we made you a bento!" "oikawa-san i made you cookies, see?" "oikawa-san let's hang out!"
"ah, hey there girls~" he cooed at them. as much as he wanted to leave them, he couldn't just ignore his fan girls. as annoying as they were, they were still his supporters after all.
"oikawa-san, are you practicing later? can we watch?" "we'll bring you snacks during practice!" "i'll cheer for you, oikawa-senpai!"
it had been roughly five minutes since the girls arrived. and it had also been five minutes since he's lost sight of y/n. oikawa was starting to get antsy. his sole purpose was to shoo her admirers away and yet he was being bombarded by his own.
suddenly, the blue hue which he seemed to grow so fond of caught his eye. he turned to look at her, walking so casually while she frowns down at a piece of paper in her hands
"y/n! -" sadly his voice was drowned out by the shouts and squeals of the girls, although the noise still got her attention
y/n looked up to see the brunette waving at her with a girl latched onto his other arm. and being the clueless one that she is, she simply waved back with a smile before walking away
"that might be the girl he liked.." she muttered with a hum. "he mentioned it at the park that night.."
"ack! she wasn't jealous at all!" oikawa spluttered with a gasp
"oikawa-san what are you talking about?" "do you like someone?" "what?! oikawa-senpai, you like someone?!"
oikawa waved them off and hastily ran after the blue haired girl. "y/n-chan!" oikawa exclaimed as he slammed their classroom door open
y/n, along with the rest of the class looked over to him in confusion. ".. yes?" y/n replied "ah sorry" he sent the class a peace sign before rushing over to her side
"i was gonna ask --did anything interesting happen just now?" he mused with a huff "did ya maybe get something from someone..?"
oikawa, bless his heart, was trying to be as discreet as he possibly could. though it's not like he has to try since she was probably as dumb as a rock when it comes to shit like this.
"oh.. i got a letter and a gift" she said as she shuffled through her bag for the said things
oikawa dramatically cried in his mind as he looked away from her. "she has no shame! so she really doesn't care about my feelings!" he muttered to himself in distress
"its this." she said
oikawa reluctantly faced her with a furrowed brows and quivering lips, ready to throw the love letter and bento away. that is, until he actually saw what the 'letter' and 'gift' was.
"uh what is this?" oikawa sweat dropped as he pointed to the pair of school shoes and a note from the dean.
y/n sulked as she reluctantly started removing her converse. "i got in trouble today" she said "apparently, im not allowed to wear these" she said as she stuffed her shoes in her bag and slipped the school shoes on
"well yeah, everyone knows that" iwaizumi sweat dropped. "then how am i gonna skate?" she faced them with exaggeratedly teary eyes as she uncomfortably moved her feet about
"guess you're gonna have to make do with that" iwaizumi comforted her
"is that all you got?" oikawa asked again
"oh. i actually got a love letter and a bento. but that's about it" she casually replied
oikawa gave her a painfilled smile and a thumbs up. "ah. i see." he grimly replied. "well.. aren't ya gonna give them a response?" oikawa asked followed by a strained laugh
"i can't.." she mumbled with slight embarrassment
"why not?" iwaizumi asked
"i can't read it.." she admitted, her face gradually getting hotter and hotter from shame
"what?"
"i can't read it!" she covered her face with her hands "japanese is still hard for me! i can only understand certain parts!"
"and i also ate the bento because i was tempted!" she confessed
oikawa and iwaizumi sweat dropped and nodded along. "i see.." oikawa laughed
"well it's no problem" he said. "you can choose not to respond. you're not really obligated to, anyways."
"really? that's great!" she perked up. "i didn't know what to do anyway" she chuckled "i could only understand parts of the letter cus i wrote it for reki!" she said
"im glad im not stuck in that pinch anymore.." she sighed in relief "im not used to people liking me.."
iwaizumi watched as oikawa's face visibly fell at the mention of the redhead's name. his already pained smile quickly turned into a frown.
"y/n-chan! can you come here for a sec?" one student called for her "oh sure." y/n replied before quickly making her way to them
oikawa pouted and trudged over to his seat, plopping himself down on the chair and resting his head on the desk with a huff
"so, what'll you do now?" iwaizumi asked as he glanced at his friend "dunno" oikawa replied
"hey iwa-chan. am i ugly?" he asked. "i was gonna say yes but that'll be too mean at the moment. so no, shittykawa. you're not." iwaizumi replied with a sigh as he put his comic away
"is that reki guy hotter than me?" he asked again. "i dunno, dude" iwaizumi shrugged "i mean, probably."
"do ya think i have a chance? i mean, i always get with girls so easily!" oikawa huffed. iwaizumi rolled his eyes and hit him on the head with his fist. "wanna know why you don't got a chance, shittykawa?" he said
"ouch -- yeah sure, enlighten me, iwa-chan" oikawa replied with a wince
"its cus she likes someone else, idiot."
oikawa rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his hand, watching y/n converse with another student from across the room
"just how amazing is this reki guy anyway?"
"I HAVE 40, 000 YEN AND A SKATEBOARD!" reki exclaimed as he slammed the money and the board down before cherry "IS THIS ENOUGH TO VISIT Y/N, CHERRY?!" he asked with an excited smile
"for a plane ticket!" reki replied "do ya think if i sell this skateboard i'd get at least a thousand yen?" he asked
cherry sweat dropped and pushed the things away. "what is this for?" he asked with furrowed brows
cherry watched the boy fuss with a smile of amusement, chuckling lightly to himself as reki starts listing down the jobs he's done for the money. "a plane ticket costs roughly 15 thousand to 30 thousand yen. with your budget now, you won't be able to afford a trip back home" cherry explained
"whaaa?" reki groaned out "then i have to work more? but thats so boring! i haven't skated in forever for this!" he whined
cherry patted his back as the redhead sulked. "don't worry, we'll be going with you anyways" he said "you can borrow money from the gorilla" cherry suggested with a smile
"why not from you?" reki raised a brow. "because i don't want to." cherry replied
reki sweat dropped but nodded anyways. he gathered the money and the skateboard before running on his way over to joe's restaurant.
"JOE HELP!!" reki exclaimed as he slammed the restaurant doors open. "yo, what the hell?!" joe yelled back as he watched reki rush over to him and cling on his arm with a cutesy pout
"hey hey, joe~" reki cooed "can i borrow money from you? i can right? right? great!" he exclaimed "i'll need 20 000 yen atleast!" reki said with a grin as he held his hands out expectantly
joe spluttered as he stared down at the redhead. "hey, who said i'll give you money?" he scowled
"cherry did!" reki exclaimed
"kaoru.." joe muttered through gritted teeth. "that damn brat." he sighed. "whatever. i'll give ya money." he said. "it's to see y/n right? we've been planning on visiting soon anyway"
"really?! great! can i have it now-" reki was cut off by joe's laughter. "no, no" joe cooed
"you're gonna have to work for it" he smirked as he pulled out an apron and a menu and shoved it into the redhead's arms. reki's expression morphed into one of dread as he held the apron against his body ".. am i supposed to be a waiter?" he groaned out
"you're a smart one, aren't ya?" joe said in a teasing tone
"but why do i have to work?" reki whined. "oh, cmon! it's for y/n, don't ya care about her?" joe taunted him
reki sent him a glare and reluctantly put the apron on. "for y/n.. sure" he muttered with a blush of embarrassment as joe started ruffling his hair like a child
"hey, joe.." reki trailed off "if i have to work.. the shouldn't he be working too?!" he shrieked out as he pointed to miya who was quietly sitting by a booth. "hah?!" miya exclaimed "i actually have money, unlike you, you slime!" he yelled
"how?! you're thirteen!" reki shrieked out
"and you're seventeen but poor! shut up and take my order, slime!" miya hissed back at him
"i hate you!" reki hissed back "im not letting you near y/n after this, just so you know" he said. miya simply rolled his eyes and huffed. "shut up, slime. i want a drink." he said
"you shut up" reki muttered back in annoyance, but quickly wrote the order down anyways
"haha, keep this up and you'll see y/n in no time!" joe cheered as he patted reki's back. "why can't you just give me money, dude?" reki groaned
joe laughed and sent him a cheeky wink "gotta milk the opportunity, you know?" he mused
"so you're just using me!!"
ppl r asking for them to see y/n skate,, dw that's coming soon haha,, and reki and the others are also appearing soon :)
"exactly!"
sorry for the spelling / grammar mistakes if there are any :<
#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq x y/n#haikyuu x y/n#hq x reader#hq x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x female reader#haikyu x y/n#oikawa x you#oikawa x reader#oikawa x y/n#hq oikawa#oikawa tooru x reader#reki kyan x y/n#reki kyan x you#reki x langa#langa hasegawa#sk8 infinity#sk8 the infinity x reader#sk8 x reader#seijoh x you#seijoh x manager#aoba johsai#oikawa tooru x y/n#miya chinen x reader#haikyuu tooru#tooru x y/n
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Boys With Luv
Genre: Crack, Drama, Humor, Mild Angst
Warning: Swearing
MASTERLIST
RIP DAICHI| RUNNING INTO OLD FRIENDS
RUNNING INTO OLD FRIENDS
Bokuto and Daishou watched Y/N closely, as she proceeded to do nothing but stare out the window, eyes void of any emotion. Kiyoomi was at the counter placing their order, when he turned to take her in. She had looked so bright and bubble two hours before, and he hated the change he saw because of something that moron did. He was determined to fix it; he didn’t know how, but he knew he didn’t want to see that empty look in her eyes again.
Y/N sipped her drink slowly, eyes still staring outside, when she saw two boys staring back at her on the other side. She shifted back in her seat slightly startled, when the light brown haired boy waved his arms wide in recognition. The other boy merely rolled his eyes as the two made their way inside. Stepping into the cafe, Y/N couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face at the sight of Makki and Issei.
“Do mine eyes deceive me Mattsun, or is that Y/N, L/N?! Heartbreaker extraordinaire?!” Makki delcared opening his arms to catch Y/N as she launched herself into his chest. Issei merely shook his head, properly introducing himself to the three boys sitting at their table. “Im Issei Matsukawa, and that idiot is Hanamaki Takahiro, we knew Y/N before she moved to Tokyo.” He murmured sitting at the table behind them. Bokuto motioned towards them introducing themselves and opening the table for them to join. “ What are you doing here anyway squish?! Thought you were strictly a city girl now?” Makki asked poking her cheek softly. At his quesiton she looked down, fiddling with her fingers. Next to her, Kiyoomi took her hand in his and squeezed softly. “She scheduled a game between Kurasuno and Nekoma, only to find out that her boyfriend on the Kurasuno team was cheating on her.” Kiyoomi answered softly. Issei, narrowed his eyes slightly; subtly nodding at Makki. They would do something about it after catching up with their friend. “Hey petal.” Daishou asked, swirling his straw around. “If they know you, how come they haven’t come to Tokyo to see you?” he asked tilting his head slightly. She smiled sheepishly, as Issei let out a loud laugh. “She used to date our friend Hajime Iwaizumi, before she had to move; and like the idiots they are, they decided they would cut off all contact with each other.” Mattusn mumbled flicking her forehead. “And this dumb baby, thought that ignoring us was the right answer too.” Makki huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m sorry guys, I just...I figured it would be easier on everyone. You were his friends first; and we had both agreed that we would cut contact. It was easier that way.” Y/N mumbled into her drink. “Yeah well, we aren’t letting you go this time girly, and we aren’t going to blab to shittykawa either.” Mattsun mumbled taking a bite of her treat. “Lord knows what that idiot would do if he found you again.” “Hajime...Hajime Iwaizumi is the guy with the biceps right?” Bokuto asked, pulling his phone out and glossing over the web. Turning his phone he pulled up a recent photo. “He’s the ace of Seijoh!” Bokuto declared, and thus launched a two hour catch up amongst friends from beefy biceps to thick thighs. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard or cried so much. She had missed Mattsun and Makki and they made her promise not to lose touch. She couldn’t if she wanted to considering Bokuto gave them her new number.
-The Trio and Y/N ended up taking a late train back to Tokyo. She was in a much better mood, and was glad to see that Yaku had given Kiyoko her number. Kiyoko got along famously with the other girls in the chat.
-Conveniently enough, Makki and Mattsun made a stop by Kurasuno on their way home and mysteriously enough Daichi was out of school for the rest of the weak due to strenuous injury, and his inability to walk properly. When asked what happened, all he could say was that he was mugged by two boys his age; but no one would believe they came from Seijoh ;)
@dabilove27 @amberalisa @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @elianetsantana @lena-davina @bbymilkbread @yafriendlyfangirl @imbugzz @ouijaeater15 @lia-faerie-queen @animeboihoe @mushimoon14 @crybabbicus @kit-kat428 @lanaxians-2 @anatthesavage @ditu-m9 @black-rose-29
#boys with luv#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu concepts#haikyuu#haikyuu smau#smau#bokuto koutarou#koutaro bokuto#bokuto x reader#daishou x reader#daishou imagine#daishou x y/n#daishou suguru#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x you#sakusa x reader
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but i keep my hands (’til you come into the water)
rating: t
warning/s: none
pairing/s: georgenap
genres/tags: barista george, fluff, humor, flirting, friendship, communication, getting together
word count: 22,064
summary:
George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.”
Or, the one where George is a barista, Dream is Sapnap's best friend, and Sapnap just feels a lot.
+ao3
;;
The first attempt is a disaster. Sapnap should’ve expected it, the object of his desires completely different from who he usually chases after. For one thing, it’s a guy, for another, he’s got his arms crossed, fingers digging harshly into his arms, brows furrowed, lips downturned in a frown. Usually, when someone catches Sapnap’s interest, they paint a more pleasant picture.
Yeah. Not this one.
“I’m working,” he snaps. “I get it, but I really don’t like being flirted with at work.”
“You’re so upfront,” Sapnap replies, smile still on his lips, though he’s certain his ears are turning red as more people turn to look at him where he leans against the counter, probably about to be completely eviscerated by this barista. “I like that.”
He’s not eviscerated. His fate is even worse.
He gets ignored.
“Julia,” George calls, placing down the drink handed to him.
Sapnap steps out of the way as a petite girl with blonde hair takes the drink from the other, delicate fingers curling around the cup, golden-tipped fingers contrasting against the pink of her drink. Sapnap finds himself fighting against the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, remembering something about Dream saying that’s an obvious display of insecurity. And Sapnap isn’t insecure.
He just doesn’t like the way George smiled at the girl as she walked away.
“It’s called customer service, idiot,” Dream tells him later, the two of them having agreed to meet at the library so Dream doesn’t have to smell the coffee that wafts a good way out past the entrance of the Starbucks Sapnap frequents. Sapnap rolls his eyes as he takes a long sip of his vanilla frap, not fully convinced.
“It’s just,” he finally says, drink set carefully down on the table, “it’s like… why did he smile at her like that, when you could barely hear her ‘thank you,’ yet he doesn’t even look at me?”
“Maybe because he told you to leave him alone and you didn’t?” Dream suggests, taking Sapnap’s cup and drawing a smiley face in the condensation. He presents it to the other, only for Sapnap to groan and rub it away. He’s not exactly in the mood for cutesy shit. He says as much.
Dream looks unimpressed. “I’m just saying,” he draws another smiley on the opposite side of the cup, “try respecting his boundaries next time.”
“But I only know him as the barista from Starbucks,” Sapnap whines. “How am I supposed to flirt with him if I only see him when he’s working?”
“Break,” Dream replies, easy.
“Ah.”
Dream sets down Sapnap’s cup, the new smiley still there. “Yeah,” he says, “ah.”
;;
Dream had also advised him to maybe read the barista’s nametag and find out his name, so that’s the first thing Sapnap does when he walks in on Wednesday, eyes going directly to the little plaque on the barista’s apron. GEORGE. Sapnap bites his lip. He can work with that.
“Welcome to Starbucks, would you be interested in trying any of our—oh.” Sapnap looks up from the nametag to see George’s eyes on him, face devoid of any emotion other than perhaps vague disappointment.
“Hi,” Sapnap says.
George’s lips press together, and it’s not a frown, so Sapnap takes it as a smile.
“One venti vanilla frap please.”
“Name?”
“Come on,” Sapnap says. “You so remember my name.”
George hums, brows furrowing as he enters the order into the computer. “You’re right. Something like… ‘nuisance’?”
Sapnap frowns.
“My bad,” George says. “It was ‘annoyance,’ wasn’t it?”
“Ha ha,” Sapnap replies, crossing his arms. “It’s—”
“Sapnap, I know.” George taps the screen and Sapnap tries not to flush at the sight of his wrists. It’s not like they were hidden. It’s not like George is some Victorian lady. Jeez. Embarrassing. And then—
“‘I know’?” he quotes. “So you remembered my name.”
“Kind of hard to forget,” George replies, “since you wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Sapnap rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he tries, “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You were.”
“I’m just determined.”
“Determined?” George repeats, unamused. Sapnap nods. George gives him a long look up and down (and it’s not checking him out, not even close, but Sapnap pretends that’s the case, straightening up and hoping the lighting makes him look good) before sighing and motioning to the person next in line.
Sapnap is ready to continue speaking, but then he remembers the main point of Dream’s advice and instead just rolls his eyes, finding an empty table near the window.
Better? a text from Dream reads.
Duh, his name is George
George
Yes, George , Sapnap glances up at the barista, who’s now taking the order of a guy definitely taller than Sapnap, and judging by the size of his arms, probably stronger too, and when he walks away, George’s eyes definitely follow him, lips curled into a smile not like the one he wore when the blondie left, but rather… oh, come on. Dude what the hell
What
Sapnap doesn’t take a picture, but he does try his best to describe the other customer to Dream. George was like..drooling over him what the hell!
I doubt it
When Sapnap looks up again, George is most definitely not wiping any drool away from his mouth, instead wearing a polite smile as he takes an older woman’s order. It’s as if Sapnap made up the smile he wore watching that guy walk away.
Ok, he concedes, maybe not drooling, but he definitely like… I dont think Im his type :(
As if u ever gave up that easily, Dream’s reply is fast, and Sapnap smiles as the thinking dots appear. You’re fine, just be yourself and respect his boundaries. I know you, you’re a great guy Sap you’ve got this
He’s right. About… everything. Sapnap slips his phone into his pocket right before he hears his name called. It’s not George calling out the drinks today, whoever was missing the other day now returned to their normal shift. Sapnap accepts the drink with an easy thank you and is about to walk away before he’s struck with an idea.
“Um, excuse me,” he calls to the woman who’s already started to head back to the espresso machine. She turns around and makes her way back over to the counter anyway, brows raised, anticipating Sapnap’s question.
Sapnap leans in some, unsure if he wants George to hear what he’s about to ask or not.
“Um, George,” he starts, and, oh, that’s not a good look. He presses on anyway. “When is… do you know his breaktime?”
“I do,” the woman replies, and Sapnap is ready to be pleasantly surprised, the amount of information this employee is ready to give more than expected, but then she continues, “but legally I’m not allowed to share it with you, and even if I could, I don’t think I would.”
Sapnap tries his best to swallow his disappointment. He’s not sure how he ended up so dumb with hope anyway. “Right,” he says. “Sorry for asking.”
“I suggest not doing it again,” she replies easily, but before she walks away she gives him a soft smile, “but it’s fine.”
Sapnap returns her smile, even as he feels an itch at the base of his neck, only growing as heat spreads under his skin. He’s quick to make his way back to the table, fingers wrapped tight around his frap.
He tries his best not to watch George, appearing as disinterested as he can, up until the other switches places with another employee, now going around cleaning up tables. Sapnap’s been people watching, eyes determinedly looking anywhere but at George, but that fails when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, a napkin falling to the floor, just in reach of Sapnap’s foot. Stretching the tiniest bit, Sapnap catches the napkin under his shoe, pulling it over to him so he can pick it up and throw it away himself. He almost makes a comment to George about his cleaning skills, always one to tease, no matter who it is he’s teasing, but then the napkin flops over the back of his hand and he sees ink on paper.
Mon-Th 8am-4pm break @ 10 lunch @ 12 break @ 2
Sapnap has no idea when George wrote that, if it was while he was still taking orders or if he wrote it while Sapnap kept his eyes out the window, but when he looks up, he finds the barista already watching him, now back behind the till, cheeks pink even as he holds Sapnap’s gaze. Sapnap smiles, waving the napkin in an I got it! gesture. George doesn’t smile back, just looks down at the register, then up at the customer that walks in a second later.
That’s fine. Sapnap shoves the napkin into his pocket. This is progress.
When he’s about to leave, hand pressed against the glass door, he turns. George is looking down, but Sapnap can see the tips of his ears, the slope of his nose. Pink. Bright, pretty pink.
He smiles. Definitely progress.
;;
“So you want me to flirt with you, then?” Sapnap asks, leaning his hip against the edge of the table George sits at, the barista looking at something on his phone.
“No, not really,” George replies, not looking up from the device.
Sapnap sits in the seat across from him. “But I can flirt with you now, right?” he asks. “Since you’re not technically working right now?”
“I’m being paid for this,” George says. “It’s ten minutes. Money is going into my bank account, right now.” He finally looks up at the other, eyes wide in emphasis. “That means I’m working.”
“Boo,” Sapnap immediately snaps. “You just don’t want to admit that you want me.”
George makes a face.
“Want me flirting with you,” Sapnap clarifies, though he wouldn’t mind George wanting him. (He even hopes for that, honestly.) “You want me to flirt with you.”
“Quit making assumptions, you weirdo.”
Sapnap laughs. “You sound like my friend.”
“Oh, really?” George asks. “Maybe we’d get along then.”
“Me and you?”
George gives him a dry look. “No, you idiot, me and your friend.”
“Well, you’re not going to meet him,” Sapnap replies.
“What, is he better looking than you?” George asks. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Hey!” Sapnap cries indignantly. “What does that mean?” George merely raises a brow. “And no , he’s not. I just… he doesn’t like coffee.”
“And that means he can’t come inside?” George asks.
“He gets, like, really nauseous if he smells it,” Sapnap explains “After I come here, I usually end up meeting him at, like, the library or something.”
“Oh, are you guys students?” At this, George sits up, leaning forward slightly over the table. Sapnap wonders if he’d be allowed to copy the other’s posture, or if it’d make George lean away. He decides not to risk it.
“I am,” he says. “My friend isn’t.”
“H’m,” George says.
“Yeah,” Sapnap replies. “H’m.”
He smiles at the smile that spreads on George’s lips, even as the other looks away, tucking his chin into his collar in an attempt to hide it further. “Stop it,” George says, muffled as he speaks into fabric. “Stop that.”
“I’m just looking at you,” Sapnap replies.
George glances at him from the corner of his eye. “I know,” he says. “Stop it.”
Though he doesn’t want to, he does. “So are you a student too?” he asks.
“Alum,” he replies. “Graduated last year.”
“Ooh,” Sapnap says. “Teach me all that you know.”
“You don’t even know what I majored in,” George replies. “What if we took, like, completely different classes?”
“Unimportant,” Sapnap says. “I was just trying to find an excuse to spend more time with you.”
“I—,” George is cut off by a persistent beeping. The two look down at the phone on the table. “Oh,” George turns off the timer. “Back to work.”
“I thought you said you’re still technically working?” Sapnap asks, knowing the grin he’s wearing is infuriating.
George’s eyes narrow as he looks at Sapnap before he shakes his head. “You’re so annoying.”
“You’re the one who talked to me for ten minutes,” Sapnap replies easily.
George doesn’t reply, instead just shaking his head once more, heading back to the counter, where he grabs his apron and goes to tie it around his (oh God, small) waist. Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut, thinking, before he gets up from his chair. The place is relatively empty for ten in the morning. “It’s compsci,” he says as George finally comes to stand at the register. “I’m a compsci major.” George looks up at him from across the room, startled. “In case you were, you know, actually wondering.” He can feel his confidence drain out of him the longer the other continues to stare blankly at him. “Um, yeah.” He lifts a hand to wave goodbye, and he’s about to walk out when George replies:
“Wait, Sapnap,” he turns around to see George watching him, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, “if you actually do want help ever, uh, I can do that. For you.”
Sapnap wants to reply, wants to say thank you or maybe even you, me, library tomorrow at six?, but instead he stays silent, and the moment passes, George inserting something into the computer, Sapnap clearly dismissed.
;;
“I fucked up,” he says immediately to Dream, sinking into his seat at the small diner on the corner of Mulberry and 11th, convenient for its equidistance from his dorm and Dream’s apartment.
“You really could’ve gotten a date, and instead you just stood there,” Dream says, a vague echo of Sapnap’s retelling.
“You’re making fun of me right now,” Sapnap whines.
“No,” Dream says. Sapnap looks up at him from between his fingers. The corner of Dream’s mouth twitches. “Maybe.”
Sapnap groans, pushing his face further into his hands.
“No, no, it’s not that bad,” Dream tries. “Come on, man, no moping at Sally’s. You’re literally eating cheesecake pancakes right now. You can’t mope.”
“I’m not moping,” Sapnap immediately replies. “I’m mourning.” He pulls his hands away from his face, instead pressing the tips of his fingers to his temples. “Mourning the relationship that never was.”
“Is this what you’re like when you actually have to work for a relationship?” Dream asks. He steals a strawberry off of Sapnap’s plate. “I don’t know if I like this dude.”
“George?” Sapnap asks.
“No,” Dream says, stealing another strawberry, “you.”
“Considering you’re still here, I think you like him well enough.” Sapnap lifts a brow as Dream goes to sneak another strawberry, blocking the other’s fork with his own. Metal clinks against metal. Dream accepts defeat, going back to his waffles.
“We all have our ups and downs,” Dream finally declares. “That was a bad day—”
“But it was going so well!”
“Okay, then things got thrown off with the alarm—”
“Timer.”
“—going off,” Dream eats another bite of waffles, “so basically: don’t worry about it.”
“I will worry about it,” Sapnap says, just to be contradictory.
Dream knows what he’s doing, so instead of replying, he just finishes off the first of his waffles. Sapnap glares down at his own meal before spearing a piece of pancake.
“I’ll go back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Friday,” Dream says.
Shit.
;;
He resigns himself to waiting until Monday to see George again, only to find himself stopping short when walking to his dorm from the library, spotting a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches that line the commons.
“George?” he calls, before he can decide if interacting outside of the four walls of the Starbucks they’re so used to is a good idea.
George looks up, slipping his phone in his pocket, eyes obviously wide even when hidden behind a pair of—
“Are those clout goggles?” Sapnap asks, biting back a laugh.
George crosses his arms, stretching his legs out (though they don’t reach particularly far, Sapnap affectionately notes) and leaning back on the bench. “Maybe,” he replies.
Sapnap stops holding back his laughter, letting it spill out freely as George’s face goes through a range of expressions, from a frown to a smile to a grimace to something of a cross between all three.
“If you’re done,” he says when Sapnap’s laughter has turned more into sporadic giggles.
“I’m sorry,” Sapnap immediately replies, though it’s clear the words mean nothing. He’s certain if he could see George’s eyes clearly through his lenses, the other would be rolling them. “It’s cute,” he almost says, but something stops him, the words turning into, “It’s fine. They suit you.”
One of George’s hands comes up to adjust the glasses, the twist of his lips finally turning into a smile. “Really?” he asks, hand pulling away from the frames to instead rest his fingers lightly against the plastic, but Sapnap isn’t paying attention to the glasses at all, eyes instead locked on the delicate bones of George’s wrist.
“Yeah,” he says anyway. George’s hand falls back to his lap. “So,” Sapnap says, now that the immediate distraction is gone, coming back into himself, “what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you were wanting to see my face again.”
“Um.” George looks away, at a tree that Sapnap knows is behind him, at the ground, the railing of the bench, at an acorn that lay a few feet away. Sapnap tries not to let the hope grow in him, even though the silence only continues to stretch on.
The hope finally breaks loose, and he asks it: “Did you really come here just to see me?”
“Not… entirely,” George replies. Sapnap gives him a disbelieving look, and George is quick to defend himself. “No, really!” he says. “I live in the area, and this… it’s nice, isn’t it?” He motions to the commons. “It’s, like, cool outside now, and the sun isn’t, like, really hot or anything. It’s nice.”
“But you said ‘not entirely,’” Sapnap says, “so that means I was part of the reason?”
“I didn’t expect to see you,” George sighs. “But if—if—I did see you, I wouldn’t be opposed to, like, hanging out or, um, something.”
“Okay,” Sapnap says easily, taking a seat on the bench next to him. Now that he’s beside George, he can see his eyes better underneath his glasses, and he doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares. “So what do you want to do?”
George gives a noncommittal shrug.
Sapnap sighs. They sit in a tense silence, Sapnap itching to say something, George… Sapnap isn’t sure what he’s thinking. Although they’re sitting side by side, sometimes their shoes would brush against each other, edge of sole against edge of sole, and George would jump like he’s been shocked, bringing Sapnap’s eyes back to him every time. Finally, Sapnap gives another sigh and says, “I spy… with my little eye… something… blue.”
From the corner of his eye, he sees George tense. And then.
“The sky?”
“Nope!” Sapnap answers, popping the ‘p’. “Try again.”
George hums quietly, head moving the tiniest bit as he surveys the area. “There,” he says, pointing, “those flowers.”
“Got it,” Sapnap smiles, “your turn.”
George looks around, a single finger tapping on his jean-clad thigh. Sapnap refuses to follow the movement. “I spy,” George begins, “with my little eye something that starts with P.”
Sapnap looks around, searching for whatever George could have chosen. Then a bark rings through the air, and his head snaps around to look at the dog darting across the commons to get to a girl kneeled in the grass. “That puppy,” Sapnap replies, smug.
“Yup.” George nods, glancing over at Sapnap as he picks out something.
“I spy with my little eye,” he starts, angling himself more towards George, “something green.”
George falters. “Grass?” he tries, a slight smile on his face.
Sapnap laughs. “No,” and then out of a rush of courage he’s not sure from where, he reaches up to pluck the leaf out of George’s hair, holding it up between the two of them.
George scoffs. “That’s not even fair. I can’t see that. And was that in my hair this entire time?”
Sapnap shakes his head, flicking it away from them, the leaf dancing idly in the air before twirling to the ground. “Nah. It must have happened sometime last round.”
“Ah.” George finally takes off his sunglasses, pushing them up onto the top of his head. “Well, still not fair. I can’t even see green.”
“What?” Sapnap doesn’t mean for it to come out as a laugh, but it does. “What do you mean you can’t see green?”
“I’m colorblind, asshole,” George doesn’t shove him, but his hand does lift and make a weak motion towards him. “When you started with a color, I figured this wouldn’t last long.”
“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” Sapnap asks, hand coming down on the bench next to him so he can lean towards George.
“You said blue; it was fine,” George replies. “Besides,” he gives a shrug, “I just said the letter the word starts with. If I did it every time, maybe you would too.”
“Weird,” Sapnap says, the word coming out on a whistle.
“Not as weird as you,” George easily fires back.
Sapnap rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, settling back on the bench once more. They sit in a companionable silence for another second before he remembers.
“Hey, uh,” George looks over at him, and wow, have his eyes always been that deep, wide and round and shining like honey in the bright sun, “my friend and I, the one that doesn’t like coffee, we’re meeting up for dinner. Would you… maybe want to come? Just so you can meet him. You know. We hang out a lot. And stuff.”
George seems to consider it before he nods. “If your friend is fine with it, why not?”
Sapnap sends Dream a quick text to ask, though he knows the other will say yes. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” he asks, even though he and Dream were just going to meet at, like, a McDonald’s.
“Not that I know of,” George replies.
“Awesome,” Sapnap says.
“Yup,” George agrees.
And… it’s awkward again.
“Got any other plans?” he asks, just to break the silence.
“Not really,” George says. “Fridays are usually pretty uneventful.”
“No one asking you to any parties?”
At that, George gives a quiet laugh. “Not really a partying type of person.”
“Really?” Sapnap asks, eyes wide. “I never would’ve guessed.”
George looks over at him, brows high, before he realizes it was sarcasm, making him roll his eyes. “Oh my God, you’re so annoying.”
“I’m not the one who agreed to spend more time with me.”
George doesn’t reply, but when Sapnap glances at him, he’s got a small smile on his lips, cheeks pink and not, Sapnap is pretty sure, because of the sun.
;;
Sapnap thinks he should be jealous. He’s, like, really sure he’s supposed to be jealous.
Dream and George meet and hit it off immediately, falling into an easy banter that Sapnap watches like a tennis match, a constant smile on George’s face, laughter spilling out past his lips like a waterfall.
They get along like a house on fire or whatever the phrase is, and Sapnap is left to breathe in the smoke. Yet he’s not choking and he’s not jealous.
Because every time George says something that sends Dream into a fit of laughter, he’ll glance over at Sapnap, eyes bright and smile wide, as if to check that he has Sapnap’s attention too, that he has Sapnap laughing right along with them.
Sapnap wonders if Dream notices, if he catches these moments between them, but if he does, he never comments on it, instead continuing to talk to George like they’ve known each other for thirty years and not thirty minutes.
By the time they finish their food, George and Dream have exchanged numbers and are planning another time to hang out.
“It sucks about the coffee thing,” George says to Dream, head tilted back so they can make eye contact. It’s endearing, but Sapnap does feel a slight pain in his chest when he realizes their one inch difference in height means he doesn’t get the same experience.
“Yeah,” Dream agrees, “honestly it’s just, like, really inconvenient because I don’t like coffee in the first place, but you’re telling me I can’t even be near it?” George gives a sympathetic smile, and Dream backtracks. “If you ever want, I’m sure I can stomach it for, like, a minute or two, but—”
“It’s fine,” George cuts him off. “I can meet you wherever you want. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Dream asks, looking apologetic.
“It’s fine,” George repeats. “So next Tuesday? When I get off work?”
“Yeah,” Dream confirms. “I’ll let you know if something comes up.”
“Same here.” George gives him a smile. “It’ll be fun kicking your ass.”
“Oh, right, like you’re going to win,” Dream scoffs. “Right.”
“You’ll see,” George crosses his arms, “just wait.”
“Whatever.” Dream gives a laugh before shouldering his backpack. “Alright,” he says to both George and Sapnap this time. “I’m going to head out. Patches is probably wondering why she hasn’t been fed yet.”
George laughs as Sapnap lifts his hand in an easy wave.
Dream waves back then heads out, leaving George and Sapnap alone.
George turns to Sapnap.
“So,” Sapnap says, “what’d you think?”
“He’s nice,” George replies, and then, “thanks for, uh, inviting me.”
“Of course, dude,” Sapnap says because what else do you call the guy you like, other than dude? He blinks. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”
George gives a hesitant smile. “Maybe.”
“You’re not, like, intruding on anything,” Sapnap immediately goes to reassure. “We do this, like, all the time. It’s really not a big deal.”
“I didn’t think I was.” George collects his trash, “but thanks for putting the idea in my head.”
“No. You don’t get to do that.” Sapnap follows his lead as they throw out the wrappers from the burgers. “Anyway,” he opens the door for George, who ducks his head in silent thanks, before following after him, “what about me?”
“What about you?” George asks.
“Your number,” Sapnap answers, “I want it.”
“You think I give it out just like that?” George’s brows are raised in disbelief as Sapnap scoffs.
“You did it for Dream, and he didn’t even ask!”
“Okay, and?”
“You’re so mean to me, George,” Sapnap whines, crossing his arms. “See if I ever talk to you again.”
“Oh because that’s just the worst possible outcome for me,” George laughs.
“What the hell?” Sapnap uncrosses his arms to instead fling them out at his sides. “I thought we had fun today! We played I spy!”
“Yes,” George says, “because that is the exact definition of fun.”
“Well,” Sapnap crosses his arms again, “ I had fun. Sorry that you didn’t.”
In his performance, he had closed his eyes, but when he opens them again, his heart is quick to skip a beat upon seeing the soft smile on George’s face as he looks at him. His eyes are no longer turned to gold by the sun, but instead are dark like the coffee he serves, and Sapnap only finds himself looking away from them to instead drop his gaze to the other’s lips. They’re a soft pink, and they’re full, and Sapnap finds himself wondering what they’d feel like on his own.
“It’s,” and then a slew of numbers that Sapnap doesn’t catch. He finally meets George’s eyes again.
“What was it?” he asks, pulling out his phone. George rolls his eyes, giving a quiet laugh, before repeating his numbers as Sapnap rushes to add him to his contacts. When he’s done, he sends a quick text to George (Hiiii :D) to which George doesn’t answer but does make a show of blocking the number (then immediately unblocking it).
“Anyway,” Sapnap shoves his hands in his pockets, Dream’s advice be damned, and gives a slight whistle, “walk you home?”
George shifts his weight, readjusting his jacket, before nodding. “Alright.”
Sapnap smiles. George starts walking.
;;
George’s apartment is nice. Not too far from the Starbucks he works at (not too far from Sapnap’s dorm) and it’s in a quieter part of the city. The two of them stand in silence on the front step.
“So,” George says.
“So,” Sapnap agrees.
A second. Two seconds.
George makes a small noise that has Sapnap ready to ask if he’s alright when George’s hand suddenly smacks against his cheek. Sapnap immediately reaches up to cradle the reddening skin. “Did you just slap me?” He thinks the slight crack in his voice is warranted.
George’s eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “No. Oh my God. I wasn’t… it was a,” and then he makes a motion, like he’s pressing a kiss to his fingers, then lifting them as if he were to press that kiss to—
“You couldn’t have just kissed me like a normal person?” Sapnap is trying not to sound accusatory or angry because he’s not, but what the hell.
“It’s—I didn’t—look, fuck, I’m sorry.” George wraps his fingers around Sapnap’s arm to tug his hand away from his cheek. “Here, look, shit, I—,” and then he’s got his lips on Sapnap’s cheek and any pain Sapnap’s feeling is gone. George’s lips are warm against his skin, and when he pulls away, his eyes are still shut, fluttering open only once he’s back within his own space. Sapnap stares at him with wide eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal,” George says.
“It was kind of cute,” Sapnap tries, heart pounding in his chest. “But only kind of.”
“Whatever,” George says, “I’ll see you Monday, Sapnap.”
“Will you kiss me then too?” Sapnap asks.
George shakes his head, shoving past Sapnap to get to his front door, pulling out his key and unlocking it. “Goodnight, Sapnap,” he says.
“Goodnight, George,” Sapnap replies.
George turns around, looking at him from right inside the door. Sapnap stares back. George opens his mouth, as if he plans to say something, but only ends up closing it again, shaking his head and turning to go further inside, shutting the door behind him.
Sapnap stands there on the front step for another second before shaking his head, the ghost of a response to whatever George left unsaid, deciding to take the long way home.
;;
Monday comes quickly, and after class Sapnap finds himself making his way to Starbucks, just in time for George’s lunch break. He wonders if thirty minutes is enough for him to take George somewhere, nothing fancy, just something quick, but then he’s inside and George is sitting at a table on the far wall, lunchbox open in front of him.
“Boo,” Sapnap says, sliding into the seat across from him, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch with me.”
“I’m good, thanks,” George says.
“I can see that.”
He watches as George peels away layers of cling wrap around his sandwich.
“So how was class?” George asks, right before he takes a bite.
“Ugh,” Sapnap crosses his arms and rests his head atop them, closing his eyes, “I don’t know why I do it sometimes.”
“What, go to school?” Based on what he hears, Sapnap assumes George has peeled away more cling wrap.
“Yes,” he replies.
“Deep down you enjoy it,” George says, “and it’s for your future.”
“You went to school,” Sapnap starts, “and now you work at Starbucks.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s not what you said on Friday.”
“I didn’t say anything Friday,” George says.
“You’re right,” Sapnap sits back up, “you didn’t say anything because you were too busy kissing me.”
“Yeah because a kiss on the cheek totally equals making out on the couch,” George snorts as he takes another bite of his sandwich. “Right.”
Sapnap grins. “Duh.” When George just rolls his eyes and opens a bag of chips, Sapnap is quick to steal one. “Anyway, we have a quiz Friday that I am not looking forward to.”
“I don’t think anyone looks forward to quizzes,” George slaps his hand away when it swoops in for another chip, “are you ready for it?”
“Define ‘ready,’” Sapnap replies. At George’s unimpressed look, Sapnap shrugs. “I mean, as ready as I can be.”
“That’s better than ‘not at all,’” George sighs. “Tell me how it goes?”
“Obviously.” Sapnap smiles when George allows him another chip. “So what about you? How’s your morning gone?”
“It’s gone,” George says. And then he pauses. “I got a girl’s number.”
“Oh,” Sapnap says, because that’s all he can think to say.
“She, like, wrote it on the receipt, I guess when Sarah was talking to me, and when she left, she just… left it on the counter.” Sarah, as it turns out, is the woman who told Sapnap she’s not allowed to disclose George’s break times. Sapnap still feels prickles of irritation under his skin as George continues: “I threw it out.”
The prickles suddenly stop.
“You threw it out?”
George nods, nonchalant, popping another chip in his mouth and even offering the rest in the bag to Sapnap with a raised brow. Sapnap just shakes his head, ears still ringing from George’s words.
“Why?” he asks.
“Not interested,” George says, finishing off his chips. “Besides,” he says, getting up to toss the bag in the trash, “no flirting while I’m at work.” Sapnap hands him the cling wrap sitting on the table. George smiles as he grabs his lunchbox. “See you later, Sapnap.”
“What if I wanted to order something?” Sapnap calls as George gets himself situated behind the counter.
“You drink too much sugar,” George replies, putting on his customer service face as a middle-aged man walks in. “Welcome to Starbucks, would you…,” Sapnap lets the rest of the greeting fade into background noise as he watches George’s mouth move, his fingers dancing across the computer as the man places his order. After another second, he gives a stretch, then rises, giving George a smile and a wave as he heads out the door.
He comes back that afternoon only to be greeted by George’s furrowed brows and a cold drink shoved into his hands. “On the house,” George tells him as Sapnap stares down at the vanilla frap, the condensation that had gathered on the cup wetting his hands.
“Thanks,” he says.
“Don’t mention it,” George replies, pushing through the glass doors and holding one open for Sapnap. “So where to?”
Sapnap thinks. He hadn’t really thought of anything for them to do, mostly just wanting to see George again. Then he remembers neon lights and crummy carpet with space patterns on it, rockets and stars and moons. With the next step he takes, he moves the tiniest fraction closer to George. The backs of their hands brush together. Sapnap lets this happen a couple more times, and then—he takes George’s hand.
George just holds on tight.
Sapnap smiles. “I have somewhere.”
;;
They hold hands the entire way, and Sapnap tries not to let it get to him. George’s fingers are thinner than his, and not long after he had started to lead them in the direction of the arcade did George’s fingers slot their way between his. His palm is warm, pressed flat against Sapnap’s own, and every once in awhile Sapnap will say something that makes George laugh and his hand will come up as if to cover his mouth, the action aborted halfway to its destination when Sapnap’s arm goes taut, George letting their hands fall back between them. He still looks over at Sapnap though, eyes glittering, squinted, cheeks rosy.
It’s maybe the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen.
;;
Correction. George smiling (still, because George always looks nice smiling) colored by the neon lights is the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen. He’s almost tempted to take a picture of just George, just for him to have, him to cherish, but he knows George will hate it, George will watch him like a hawk over his shoulder as he deletes it, not letting up until he deletes it, and the effort isn’t worth it. Seeing George so displeased isn’t worth it.
So instead he crowds into George’s space, demanding a selfie, “to send to Dream! To make him jealous!”
Like that’s anywhere close to the truth. But he does send the selfie to Dream, who does reply with a >:(, and Sapnap laughs and shows George, who laughs then wanders over to the skee ball, and then that’s when Sapnap goes and changes the picture to his homescreen (because a lockscreen is too risky, because he knows George will definitely see it).
He lets George win at skee ball. And air hockey. And… this game isn’t even competitive, what the hell, but he lets George win at that too. (And okay, maybe sometimes George wins because he’s better, but it’s not like Sapnap would ever admit to that.)
When they leave, George is still giggly, fingers intertwined with Sapnap’s once again, but less passive, more with a purpose, more I’m holding your hand because I really want to hold your hand, because I like how your fingers feel between mine, because I like the way our skin touches, you’re here and so am I. It’s so deliberate, and Sapnap is dizzy from it.
They get dinner at a seedy, shitty pizza place, though the pizza is anything but, and then it’s back to Sapnap walking George home.
“You really don’t have to,” George says. “Your dorm is, like, right there,” he makes a general motion to the upcoming intersection.
“But I want to,” Sapnap says.
George sighs, but doesn’t say anything, even as they walk past the entrance of the university.
When they reach his apartment, Sapnap fakes nonchalance. “So,” he says, “are you going to make it a big deal?”
George crosses his arms.
Sapnap puts up his hands in front of him. “Just a question.” He smiles. “So are you?”
“You’re so annoying,” and then warm lips are on his cheek as fingers tangle into his shirt. “I hate you,” George says when he leans back. Sapnap looks down at where George still has a grip on his shirt, but when he meets George’s eyes again, the other doesn’t let go. Sapnap wants to take his face in his hands and press a kiss to his lips right then and there.
George’s gaze dropping down—to his lips, there’s no doubt about it, George is looking at his lips—is almost enough to make him do so.
But that would scare George away. He knows it would. So he leans back on his heels, smile on his lips. “Hate you too.” The soft lilt of his voice belies his words. He doesn’t mind.
George’s eyes flit back up to Sapnap’s. Sapnap’s smile widens. George drops his hand from Sapnap’s shirt. “Thank you for today,” George finally says. “I had fun.”
“Me too,” Sapnap reaches out, taking George’s hand in his own, finding that he quite missed the other’s touch, even if it’d only been a few seconds. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“Yeah,” George agrees, “we will.”
They stand there in silence, Sapnap holding George’s hand. George clears his throat.
“Well,” he says, “goodnight, Sapnap.”
Sapnap gives the other’s hand a squeeze. “Goodnight, George.” He drops George’s hand, their fingers dragging together until they’re not.
When their fingers finally part, George takes a breath then turns to unlock his door and head inside. Right before he shuts the door, Sapnap is treated to the sight of an eye turned liquid gold from the streetlights, a rich, amber color that leaves Sapnap tasting coffee and honey. “Goodnight, George,” he says one last time, and then, the door shuts and it’s just Sapnap out in the cold. He gives a smile to the closed door, then turns and starts the walk to his dorm.
;;
Sapnap ends up with what feels like fifty new assignments on Tuesday, and he knows Dream and George are meeting up after George’s shift ends, so he decides to forgo his usual trip to Starbucks and instead heads back to his dorm after shooting George a quick Have fun with dream :) text.
When he reaches his room, his phone chimes in his pocket.
thanks, i’m gonna kick his ass
Sapnap huffs out a laugh before unlocking the door and heading inside, dropping his backpack onto the floor next to his desk then collapsing into his chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes before replying to the text.
Of course u will <3
Immediately, he gets a text back, and he thinks more about that than what the text actually says (gross, don’t ever send me a <3 ever again).
Just to be antagonistic, Sapnap grins and sends: Good luck baby xoxo mwah mwah mwah <3
Another instant reply: you’re so disgusting. talk to you later sapnap
Sapnap’s grin stays as he sets his phone down and pulls out the assignment he’s decided to tackle first. Sure, George may be annoyed by every text he sends, but he’s still replying right away, still replying at all—he totally doesn’t mean it. George totally loves texting him, he’s sure of it. Sapnap gets out his laptop and goes to Blackboard as he thinks about George on Monday, the way he’d sometimes lean into Sapnap, the clean scent of his laundry detergent settling into Sapnap’s heart and the occasional press of his cheek against Sapnap’s leaving a permanent warmth under his skin.
He goes through his assignments in a daze, Java getting mixed with java and graphs getting interrupted by George. Only the sound of his phone going off—a call from Dream—breaks him out of it, little numbers and letters dancing behind his eyes as he blinks and answers the phone.
“Yeah?”
“George and I are getting something to eat, do you want us to bring anything to your dorm?”
“You don’t have to,” Sapnap replies, even as his stomach rumbles and roars at him to eat.
“You’re right,” Dream agrees, “but I’m not doing this for myself.”
Sapnap blinks. “George,” he says, and Dream gives a quiet hum. “Where’re you guys getting food from?”
“Taco Bell, maybe,” Dream replies. “There’s one on the way to your dorm.”
“Across the street, yeah,” Sapnap agrees. “Then can I get a Cheesy Gordita Crunch with two soft chicken tacos, a steak quesadilla, cinnamon twists, and a Baja Blast?”
Dream repeats it back to him with an, “alright,” at the end, and Sapnap tells him he’ll pay him back when they get to his dorm. “Sounds good,” Dream replies. “See you in a bit.”
“See you,” Sapnap agrees, then the call disconnects, and Sapnap is left in a messy as hell room with George on his way. “Shit,” Sapnap says, looking at the weeks-old laundry spilling out of his wardrobe and the assortment of half-drunk Gatorades and water bottles littering the shelf above his desk. “Shit, shit, shit.”
He grabs his trash can from where it sits at the foot of the bed, lifting it to the edge of the shelf and just pushing all the bottles into it, some of them falling past the edge and hitting the floor. He groans as he bends over to grab them and put them into the trash properly. When that’s done, he knows he’s not going to be able to run a full two and some loads of laundry before Dream and George get to his dorm, so he deems the laundry a lost cause and shoves it as best he can back into the wardrobe, his hamper buried under weeks of unwashed clothes. Oh well. At least his room doesn’t smell.
Sapnap freezes. Does it?
He shakes his head. No. It doesn’t. It’s fine. Besides, his room isn’t that bad. And George is a guy; he probably lived in the dorms, he knows the horrors of a bunch of dudes crowded in one building. It’s fine.
A knock on the door makes him look up from where he’d been staring a hole into his bedsheets, wondering if remaking his bed (he had put it together haphazardly that morning, more for a sense of productivity than any need for cleanliness, the sheets wrinkled and pillows slouched awkwardly) would be worth it. He supposes the interruption is answer enough. Leaving the bed as is, he unlocks the door, swinging it open to see George standing there holding three paper bags, two drinks under his left arm.
“Hi,” Sapnap says.
“Hi,” George replies, angling himself to allow Sapnap to take a bag from him. “These drinks are really cold.”
“Here,” Sapnap grabs the green one, immediately lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. “Almost as refreshing as seeing you.”
George stares at him before making his way into Sapnap’s room, setting the two bags down then taking out a napkin and setting his drink on it. “You’re not funny.”
“You’re right,” Sapnap agrees, making George’s eyes widen as he looks over at him. “I’m hilarious.”
George’s parted lips fall into an unamused line. He scoffs, turning back to the bags and pulling out various Taco Bell items. “Here,” he says, handing Sapnap his quesadilla and cinnamon twists, “they threw some of our things in the same bag. Everything in the one you’re holding is yours, though.”
“Nice.” Sapnap sets down the bag to take the food, immediately getting started on his quesadilla.
“And Dream was going to come, but then he got a call from someone and said he had to go. He might’ve taken the hot sauce…?” He looks over at Sapnap with a raised brow, who glances into his bag.
“Nah. There’s sauce in here.”
“Cool,” George replies. “But yeah, it’s… it’s just us now, I guess.”
Sapnap glances over at him. George is staring down into his bag, fingers crumpling the paper. When George turns to look at him, Sapnap doesn’t turn away. George holds his gaze for a second before his ears turn a warm pink, and he ducks his head, reaching into his bag to pull out a Quesarito.
“Uh,” Sapnap says, and then reaches across George to grab his wallet from the desk and pull out a ten. “For the food.” He holds it out to George.
George takes it, their fingers brushing and Sapnap’s pulse sent racing.
“Thanks,” George says, “but Dream paid.”
Sapnap plucks the cash from George’s fingers. “Never mind then.”
George laughs, “rude,” before unwrapping his Quesarito and taking a bite. “So how are your classes going?”
Sapnap groans making a motion to the stack of assignments half-covered by an empty Taco Bell bag. “Terribly. I’m doing… fine. It’s just… so much work.”
“The worst,” George agrees, taking another bite. “Studying for the quiz?”
“What are you, my dad?” Sapnap asks, but at an unimpressed look from George, he sighs and leans back against his bed. “Yes.”
“Good,” George says, and then he says, “I kicked Dream’s ass by the way.”
“Like I said you would,” Sapnap replies, and when George looks at him from under dark lashes, he thinks about how easy it would be to lean forward and press a kiss to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose, Sapnap hesitates for the shortest second before his gaze drops lower—it’d be so easy to lean forward and press a kiss to George’s lips. When he meets George’s eyes again, they’re dark, and in the faint light, Sapnap can see his pupils blown wide. He swallows. George watches the movement.
Sapnap takes a breath. “I—”
And then George is on him, their mouths pressed hot against each other. Sapnap moves back, resting on the bed, as he tilts his head, angles it so that he can kiss George properly. It’s once he does this, once he brings a hand up to hold the back of George’s head, that George pulls away with a small breath. “This was a—”
“If you say ‘bad idea,’ you owe me ten bucks,” Sapnap says before he can finish.
George, flushed, glances up at him and huffs a small laugh. “Lapse in better judgement, then.”
“No take-backs,” Sapnap says, his left hand, which had settled on the curve of George’s hip, sliding up to hold the nape of George’s neck. “Okay?”
George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels it warm against his lips, a phantom of their kiss. “Okay.”
Sapnap smiles. “Good. So what’s wrong?” He wouldn’t normally talk it out, the other party throwing out their worries and Sapnap immediately going back in for the kill, lips on theirs and them preferably in the bed by now, but it’s okay if it’s George—if this takes longer than it normally would, that’s okay, and—George gives him a hesitant smile back—if the end result is more than a tumble in the sheets, that’s even better. (Not that that was ever the desired result, but for a time, Sapnap could’ve been content with just that. Not anymore, though. Not now.)
“I’ve never dated anyone,” George admits, “not seriously.”
“Like, you’re some type of player or…?” Sapnap lifts a brow as George sends him a look. He drops his hand to pull himself back and up onto his bed then pats the space next to him in a silent offering to George. George looks from his hand to his face then back a couple times before sighing and climbing onto the bed next to him. When George places his hands down at his side, his and Sapnap’s pinkies brush together. George takes another breath.
“I mean, I dated a girl in high school, if you could call it that,” George says. “More like I knew she had a crush on me and was doing what I was supposed to.” He makes a face and Sapnap wonders if it would be bad of him to curl their pinkies together, to take even more than that. Good or bad, he leaves his hands as they are, letting George continue. “It didn’t mean anything, and it was a high school relationship. Those are hardly legitimate.” He gives a slight eye roll. “So yeah, this is… kind of new to me.”
“That’s okay,” Sapnap says immediately. “I’ve never had a real relationship either.”
It’s not the consolation Sapnap had planned for it to be. Sapnap wouldn’t say he sleeps around, or slept around, he’s not some kind of manwhore or anything, but the fact still stands that he’s definitely had more than one partner and most of those relationships did reach at least third base before he even hit the ball. That, in contrast to George’s high school hand-holding, is definitely a strike against him.
Sapnap shakes his head, dissipating the baseball metaphors beginning to sprawl in his mind. “But it’s something I want with you,” he amends. “I really like you, George. Like… I really like you.” He’s not sure if the second thing is what does it for George, but either way, he still takes Sapnap’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and resting their connected hands in his lap. Sapnap leans over just enough to have their shoulders touching.
“You really do annoy me sometimes, you know?” George asks, thumb rubbing smooth circles into Sapnap’s skin. “It’s like you go out of your way to do it, too. You can’t just… dial it back a bit. It’s really all or nothing with you.”
“I’m not known for doing things in halves, yeah,” Sapnap agrees.
George glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “Except for relationships,” he says. His voice is rough.
The smile that had started to grow on Sapnap’s face drops. “Yeah. Except for those.”
“I really like you too,” George finally admits, “and if you’re willing to try,” he squeezes Sapnap’s hand then looks over and meets his eyes, “I am too.”
;;
The soft atmosphere had broken not long after that, Sapnap’s stomach rumbling and George bursting into lilted giggles, nerves and hesitance coloring his every move after that. But when Sapnap offered to walk him home, George agreed, and they held hands the entire way, and when they reached George’s door, George scrunched his face up then grabbed Sapnap by the front of his jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss.
“For someone who’s never been in an actual relationship,” Sapnap had said, “your kisses are pretty hot.”
“Thanks,” George had said and then slammed the door in Sapnap’s face.
Sapnap didn’t mind, though; nah, he grinned the entire way home.
;;
The rest of the week flies by in a vanilla frap-flavored, headache-filled haze. George is certain the headaches are from all the sugar Sapnap intakes, but Sapnap is certain it’s from all the homework his professors assign and studying George pushes him to do.
“It’s not as if you wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t in the picture,” George tells him as he wipes down the table next to Sapnap’s. Sapnap has a lab report open on his laptop, his notes spread all out on the table before him. Half of the keyboard is covered by the paper, rendered unusable.
Sapnap doesn’t have a good argument for that, but he also wants to keep George nearby. He leans back in his chair. “I’d have a headache with no remedy,” he says.
“Remedy, huh?” George asks, standing straight and arching a brow.
“Seeing your face is the only medicine I need,” Sapnap says, and then he throws in a, “pretty boy,” just because he wants to see what it’ll make George do.
Apparently, it makes his expression fall off his face and heat rise in its place, cheeks and ears glowing a bright pink even as he stutters out irritated (and empty) phrases, eventually giving the table a final furious once-over then disappearing into the kitchen to get rid of the dirtied rag. So basically, the words did the opposite of what he wanted, but in the end, Sapnap finds himself unable to consider it anything other than a win, mind now running through other opportunities to pull out the pet names.
George appears only when he’s about to leave, sending him off with a kiss on the cheek that’s really more an accidental brushing of lips against skin, but it’s enough for Sapnap, and he leaves the other with a smile and a promise to tell him how the quiz goes at dinner.
;;
Come dinner, Sapnap is halfway through explaining how he’s pretty sure he failed the quiz when George sits up in his seat and asks, “Is this a date?”
Sapnap freezes, mouth open and mid-word. “Do you want it to be a date?”
George huffs. “This isn’t really the wining and dining I expected, but—”
“I’m nineteen,” Sapnap tells him.
George sighs. “It was just an expression,” he says. “And I was going to say it’s fine. Everything here leaves something to be desired, but it’s fine.”
“Everything?” Sapnap asks, eyes widening coyly as he looks at the other.
“Everything,” George confirms. “Especially my date.”
Sapnap exaggerates a sad face and George rolls his eyes, throwing a fry at him, but he’s got a smile on his face, so Sapnap drops the act and grins back. “You’re so cute,” he tells the other, and George immediately seems to grow smaller, shoulders curving inwards, face angled down, his smile facing the floor instead of Sapnap, who observes this all with a quiet gaze.
“Shut up,” George says, the words on the end of a laugh.
“It’s true,” Sapnap replies. “I love looking at you. Even when you look dumb.”
“Excuse you,” George immediately snaps, finally looking back at Sapnap, “I never look dumb.”
“Oh,” Sapnap says, “you’re right. I meant when you look stupid.”
“What the hell?” George guffaws. “You’re actually so annoying. Shut up.”
“So you want me to shut up when I compliment you, and you want me to shut up when I insult you—what’s the truth?”
George looks at him, unimpressed. “The only conclusion is that I like you best when you say nothing at all.”
Sapnap scoffs. “Rude.”
“And yet.” George lifts a brow.
Sapnap gives a quiet exhale. “And yet,” he agrees.
;;
Dream stretches his legs out in front of him while Sapnap twists himself around to lean against Dream, back pressed against shoulder.
“How’s it going with George?” Dream asks, flicking through the channels on the TV, Sapnap watching the short frames he gets while taking nothing in.
“I think we’re a thing,” Sapnap replies, settling even further into Dream when he finally decides on a channel. It’s an old comedy from the 80’s, one Sapnap thinks his dad might’ve shown him when he was younger. Vaguely, he recalls falling asleep halfway through. He’ll try not to do that this time.
He feels Dream shift as he looks down at the younger. Sapnap can sense his eyes on the top of his head. “You think?” Dream asks, the words coming out slowly, as if he’s tasting every letter.
“We kissed,” Sapnap explains, “and we both talked about how we feel, and we went on a date, and he’s kissed me again since that first one. On the lips,” he adds hastily, just so Dream understands the severity of the situation.
“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Dream concludes.
“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Sapnap confirms.
Dream hums as a fanfare starts up in the movie. Sapnap takes a handful of popcorn from the bag on the coffee table in front of them.
“I think we’re taking it slow,” Sapnap continues. “Neither of us are good at relationships.”
“What do you mean?” Dream turns slightly, and Sapnap slips down his arm some. “You’re not good at relationships?”
“You know how it was,” Sapnap answers, “is.”
“Is it really that bad?”
Sapnap shrugs, scooting back up against Dream as he does so. “I’d think so. Someone like George would think so.”
“Where does that leave me?” Dream asks.
Sapnap doesn’t answer, eyes back on the TV screen. Dream huffs, but doesn’t push for one either.
“It’s fine,” he finally says. “Whatever works best for you guys.”
Sapnap nods, and they don’t talk about George or Sapnap and George or relationships for the rest of the movie.
;;
This is new. Sapnap’s heart pounds heavy in his chest as George sits perched on his lap, hands flying across Sapnap’s keyboard as he types a command into the chatbox. Dream’s voice crackles through his speakers: “George! What the hell?”
“Oops,” George says, glancing back to share a conspiratorial look with Sapnap, “I didn’t mean to.”
“Yes, you did,” Dream argues, his character finding George’s—who's really just using Sapnap’s character, but it’s whatever—and George running, even as Dream hits him over and over, beginning to take hearts. “You’re such an idiot, oh my God.”
George leans back against Sapnap’s chest, letting Dream kill him. “Fine,” he sighs, “we can do it your way. Whatever.” Sapnap smiles at the way his accent colors his words. George sends him a curious glance; Sapnap noses at the edge of his hairline in answer. George makes a small noise before leaning forward to get back into the game. Sapnap shifts, adjusting George on his lap so he can have some circulation in his thighs again. It’s not that George is heavy, no, George is fairly light, but George is bony, and for all Sapnap likes him and would in fact like to slip his hand in the other’s back pocket as they walk together, that doesn’t change the reality of George having a bony ass and it pressing into Sapnap’s lap.
When he’s got him where he wants, Sapnap curves himself over George, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. George feels warm all over, and when Sapnap tilts his head to take in the other’s profile, he sees it as a soft pink. Though George can’t really afford a free hand when PvPing Dream, he still lifts a hand to shove Sapnap’s head away.
Sapnap huffs and hooks his chin over the other’s shoulder. And then he gets the most terrible (wonderful) idea and angles his head so his nose is pressed into George’s neck and he’s starting to run kisses across the skin there. George breathes out a titter and lifts his shoulder to try and push Sapnap away. Sapnap grins and starts to climb his lips up the slender column of George’s neck. George gives a full-on giggle at this. “Stop,” he says, hand coming up to shove at Sapnap again, the lapse giving Dream a chance to hit George with his axe. “Sapnap,” George says when his kisses turn a bit rougher.
“What are you guys—,” and then George gives another breathless laugh and Dream makes a disgusted noise. “Seriously?” he asks. “In the middle of my Minecraft PvP?”
“Sorry,” George gasps, shoving at Sapnap with an urgency now, brows knitting and lips losing their smile for a frown instead. Sapnap gives one final nip to George’s neck before relenting, letting George stand from his lap and glare down at him. It holds for another second before George turns back to the computer. “I’ll be back on in a bit, is that okay?”
Dream makes a noise of confirmation then ends the call. George turns back to Sapnap.
“Too far?” Sapnap asks.
George scrutinizes him, eyes narrowed, before he sits back down on Sapnap’s lap, this time angled towards him. When Sapnap puts his hands on his hips, George makes a face. Sapnap drops his hands. “I know I kissed you first,” George finally says, not quite meeting Sapnap’s eyes. “So I should be okay with all this.” He finally manages to make eye contact, holding it as he speaks. “But I’m not.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”
“You can tell me when it’s too much,” Sapnap tells him, but at George’s look, he sucks in a breath. “You did.”
“I was—I didn’t seem like I meant it,” George says. “I know. And, um, I guess I didn’t. Not really, not at first, but—”
“I still should’ve.” Sapnap lifts a hand, looking from it to George’s eyes then back. George gives a nod, and Sapnap sets his hand on George’s side, fingers resting in the spaces between George’s ribs. He feels George’s chest expand and contract with every breath he takes.
“We could,” George ducks his head, “have a sign, or a word, or something, and if one of us does it, the other stops,” he meets Sapnap’s eyes again, “would that work?”
Sapnap’s brows raise, jaw dropping slightly. “George…,” he says, “did you just suggest we employ a safeword?”
George splutters. “No? I mean—I guess, but not like that! Just… yes or no?”
“Butterscotch,” Sapnap says.
“What?” George makes a face.
“When it’s too much,” Sapnap explains, “just say you want butterscotch.”
“It sounds like a euphemism.” The word drips distasteful from George’s tongue.
Sapnap rolls his eyes. “But that’s what makes it good !” He slides his fingers from George’s side around to his back, watching George’s face all the while. When George doesn’t stop him—physically or with butterscotch—Sapnap brings his other arm around George, holding him. “People will think we’re going to fuck or something, but actually we’re doing the opposite!”
“That or they’ll think we’re sugar addicts,” George scoffs, making Sapnap laugh.
“One of those,” Sapnap agrees. “Is that really such a bad thing?”
George looks at him, disappointment clear on his features. Sapnap smiles. George’s facade breaks; he smiles back. “It’s dumb,” he says.
“You always look dumb,” Sapnap replies. “No one will think anything.”
George sighs. Sapnap feels the movement against his chest, beneath his fingertips. “Fine,” George finally concedes. “Butterscotch.”
Sapnap smiles back then leans forward till their noses touch and their breath intermingles as George inhales then says, “If there’s ever been a better time to say the opposite of butterscotch, it’d be now.” Sapnap kisses him. George’s eyes slip shut, hands coming up to tangle slender fingers into the ends of Sapnap’s hair, and returns the kiss.
Eventually, George calls Dream again and the two of them start up their game again, George back to his perch at the edge of Sapnap’s lap, and this time Sapnap doesn’t kiss him, but George lets him run his fingers up and down his sides, and Sapnap delights in the little shivers and shudders George does every time. George and Dream end the day on a tie, the last win one of Dream’s. George’s consolation is a kiss pressed to his temple, but then George says that’s not enough and decides Dream and Sapnap owe him dinner.
“Both of us?” Sapnap asks as Dream groans on the other line.
George nods.
“Why me?” Sapnap makes the best pleading face he can.
George is made of stone. “Friend of the enemy.”
“Boo,” Sapnap says, “hiss.”
“Hey!” Dream’s voice crackles through the speaker. George glances over at it, unamused.
“I think we should try that one place, what was it called? It’s on Main and Delaware.”
Dream makes a noise. Sapnap thinks it might be one of fear. “If it’s the place I’m thinking… that’s really expensive.”
“But you can pay for it, can’t you, Dream?” George asks. “I know you can.”
Dream doesn’t reply. All three of them know he can.
“But I wouldn’t do that to you,” George continues. “Which is why Sapnap owes me dinner too.”
Sapnap is about to whine when his brain catches onto an idea and his eyes narrow. “Is this payback for the date?”
“H’m?” The tilt of George’s head is innocent in a way only the guise of innocence can be. Sapnap’s eyes squint even more, vision practically gone. “Of course not.”
Sapnap doesn’t believe him.
;;
Despite George’s teasing earlier that week, he ends up ordering the cheapest things on the menu, though Sapnap (feeling guilty about the date thing, oops) points out other, more expensive, things for George to try.
“Sapnap,” George finally says, “it’s fine. If it bothers you that much, we can split a dessert or something.” Across the table, they meet eyes and at the contact, a small smile appears on George’s face. Sapnap’s breath catches.
Dream is seated next to George, this date of course anything but traditional, but, like at the McDonald’s, Sapnap finds he doesn’t care, their closeness completely platonic—if anything, he’s comforted by it, in a sense, his two favorite people getting along as easy as they do. Sapnap’s utterly sold on it.
He and George catch eyes again as Dream peoplewatches casually, cheek resting on his palm. Sapnap’s own palm is open on the table in front of him, bored of messing with his unused cutlery. He smiles as George eyes the hand, eyes dark and inscrutable, before a hand covers his own. Sapnap curls his fingers around the other’s. They sit in this calm silence until their server brings them their food.
Sapnap’s tempted to keep George’s hand in his as he eats, but it’s his right hand and George’s left, so he lets go, turning to his food instead. George does the same, and Sapnap thinks that’s it, but then he feels a foot brush his, and when he glances up, it’s to see George already watching him, cheeks flushed. Sapnap hooks their ankles together. George’s gaze goes back to his plate.
When it comes time for dessert, George does agree on splitting with Sapnap, Dream getting his own thing, some chocolate mousse pie, and George and Sapnap getting a crème brûlée, George eager to tap the top with his spoon when the waiter brings it out to them, steaming and pretty.
Every once in awhile, their spoons clink against each other, and they exchange quick glances, Sapnap swears his aren’t heated, but the pounding in his heart suggests otherwise—he never knows with George, whether there’s something behind them or not, his eyes dark, endless, Sapnap wonders if he’ll ever be able to properly read him. If Dream is ever uncomfortable, he never gives any indication of it.
Dream and Sapnap do pay, and George looks green and guilty after, even when Dream did everything he could to keep George from seeing the check, leaning away and even cupping a hand over the receipt to prevent curious eyes from wandering.
The three of them walk out together, Sapnap’s pockets feeling considerably lighter, but the meal worth it, and when he reaches over, George lets him clasp their hands together easily, fingers intertwining like this happens everyday. Dream walks on his other side, hands in his pockets (Sapnap stops himself from making a smart remark), eyes on the sidewalk ahead of them. The sun has long since set, and a chill has started under Sapnap’s skin, shaken only by the solid warmth of George’s hand in his. Still, when a breeze ruffles their hair, Sapnap has to suppress a shiver.
They reach George’s apartment first, and he goes with an easy goodbye to Dream and a short hug around Sapnap’s middle. When he pulls away, he turns his head and his lips brush Sapnap’s cheek in something like a kiss. Sapnap watches him up until the door finally shuts and they hear the click of the lock.
They’ll reach his dorm before they reach Dream’s place. When Sapnap looks over, Dream is still staring straight ahead.
“I could’ve paid it all myself,” Dream says. “You knew that.”
“Yeah,” Sapnap agrees.
“You could’ve told me to pay it all myself.” Dream turns his head, eyes on Sapnap. His gaze is sharp. “George wouldn’t have minded.”
Sapnap looks to the ground. “Yeah.”
Dream goes back to looking ahead. They walk in silence for another minute. “He’s happy,” he finally says. Sapnap’s eyes dart to the other. Dream isn’t looking back. “He really likes you.”
“I really like him,” Sapnap says.
“Monday—the other week,” Dream gives a slight laugh, “George said he really liked that, too. He had a bad day—,” Sapnap remembers the drink shoved in his hands, the dark expression on George’s face, “—and then you were there, and you were happy and happy to see him, and suddenly the bad parts of the day didn’t really matter.”
“I just want to see him smile,” Sapnap says, and then he amends the statement, “I want to see him happy. If it’s because of me, that’s even better, but really, he just…,” he shrugs, makes a noise in his throat. “I care about him.”
“So do I,” Dream says. “And I care about you. And I can tell that you guys make each other happy. And that’s all you want for each other.” He glances over, showing the other a soft smile. “And that’s all I want for you both.”
“You haven’t even known George for that long,” Sapnap says, because he’s socially incompetent or something.
“George is easy to love,” Dream replies.
Sapnap doesn’t have anything to say to that. It’s true. He is.
;;
It’s another one of Sapnap and Dream’s biweekly movie nights, but this time George is there, head resting in Sapnap’s lap, feet in Dream’s. He fits perfectly along the couch, though he’s turned on his side, blanket tugged tight over him as he watches Jurassic Park. They settled on that after some brief bickering, mostly between George and Sapnap, Dream content to watch whatever, while George wanted a comedy and Sapnap didn’t know what he wanted but it wasn’t a comedy because, “Dream and I watched a comedy last time!”
“I wasn’t here last time!” George argues. “So it shouldn’t matter!”
“But it does ,” Sapnap does not whine, though they all know the pitch in his voice makes it close to one. “We should watch something else.”
In the end, it was Dream who decided, having closed his eyes then picked a movie off the shelf randomly. Once Dream was sat back down on the couch, George had huffed and flopped over onto his side to watch it, ignoring Sapnap’s cheering but not turning away from the hand the younger had placed atop his head, fingers running through the short strands.
Now, an hour and a half later, George makes a sleepy noise, nuzzling into Sapnap’s thigh, and Sapnap’s heart clenches in his chest.
Dream had dozed off a few minutes ago, chin in his palm, and now his elbow has started to slide off the arm of the couch. Sapnap bends over, running his nose along the curve of George’s ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hey,” he whispers. “Want to call it a night?”
George turns his head, nose bumping into Sapnap’s when Sapnap doesn’t sit up quick enough. Their eyes lock, dark blue on dark brown, and George stares up at him for a second before he glances to Dream at the other end of the couch, one hand curled around George’s ankles. “‘Kay,” George says, voice rough. Sapnap finally leans back the rest of the way, and George sits up, pointing his sock-clad toes and stretching out his right arm, the limb having been pressed to the couch beneath him. When he takes his feet from Dream’s lap, dropping them to the floor, Dream’s elbow finally slips from the couch, and he jerks awake, eyes blinking rapidly until they finally settle blearily on the TV.
Sapnap leans over to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “George and I are gonna head out,” he tells him. “We’re all pretty tired.”
Dream looks over at him, movements sluggish, before he nods. “See you guys tomorrow?”
“Probably,” Sapnap replies.
Dream nods again before making a small noise and pushing himself up from the couch. The movie still plays on the television, but none of them pay it any mind. Dream picks up their empty bowl of popcorn and takes it to the kitchen.
George sighs, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.
“Ready for the walk home?” He’s talking about their respective homes, Sapnap knows—George’s apartment and Sapnap’s dorm—but it feels so much like they’re a duo, a pair, home coming from George’s lips like they live together, that it makes Sapnap’s breath catch in his chest. Breathlessness and a clenching heart—maybe Sapnap should seek medical help.
At his lack of reply, George looks back at him. The blue light colors his skin something pretty. Maybe Sapnap’s just had an overdose of George. He doesn’t think he minds. “I’ll walk you home,” he says. And then he thinks about the placement of their houses. He backtracks. “Or… if you wanted, you could just stay at mine?”
George, growing steadily more alert as time goes on, stares at him. “You want me to go home with you,” he says. It is in no way a question.
“I mean, if you want,” Sapnap answers anyway.
“We might as well have spent the night here,” George tells him.
Sapnap glances back at Dream, only to find the other missing from the kitchen. A look at the dark hallway and the slim line of light coming from underneath the bathroom door lets him know where the other is, however. He turns back to George. “We can ask Dream,” he says. “Do you want to?”
George gives a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe your place would be better. We don’t know what he’s doing tomorrow.”
“We don’t,” Sapnap agrees, although they’re both aware Dream doesn’t have any plans.
“And we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” George continues.
“We don’t,” Sapnap repeats.
George sucks in a breath, holds it. “My place is farther,” he finally says on the exhale, “ but my bed is bigger.”
That’s true. Sapnap has a room to himself, but he’s still only got a twin. It can barely fit him sometimes.
“I’m willing to make the walk if you are,” he decides.
;;
George is willing to make the walk. Dream had come out of the bathroom not long after, wiping his hands dry on his sleep pants, then waving them out with a tired smile. Sapnap had taken George’s hand the minute the door had shut behind them, the two of them alone on the sidewalk, Sapnap tugging George even closer, using their connected hands to his advantage.
They make their way to George’s apartment slowly, despite their initial reluctance to walk. Sapnap wonders if it’s a delay of the inevitable or an enjoyment of the other’s company. (They can enjoy each others’ company within four walls, not outside where the unforgiving autumn cold that’s finally settled seeps into their bones.) George takes a breath.
“I don’t,” he starts, then makes a noise. “I don’t want anything to happen, Sapnap.”
When they pass under a streetlight, Sapnap sees George’s cheeks glow red. George glances over at him.
“You know that, right?”
Sapnap has a list of things he could say. I never even thought about that, is one. Why not? is another. “Yeah,” is what he goes with. “Don’t worry.” He squeezes George’s hand. George squeezes back.
“I just…,” George tilts his head back, looking to the sky, and Sapnap’s eyes are locked on the graceful column of his throat, “I really like you, Sapnap.” He goes back to looking ahead, but Sapnap keeps his eyes on him. “And it’s almost been a month since… since,” with his free hand, he makes a vague motion at where their other hands are locked together, “this. Whatever this is. So I just… in case you, I don’t know, expected anything.”
“It’s okay,” Sapnap says. Again, he adds, “Don’t worry.”
George smiles at him. Sapnap smiles back.
;;
When they reach George’s apartment, George unlocks the door and Sapnap follows him silently inside, chewing on his lower lip as he contemplates what he’s about to say next. Eventually, he gives up on elegance:
“You said this.” George looks over at him from where he’s locked the door. Sapnap leans against the kitchen counter. “Whatever this is.” He makes a gesture between the two of them, something indicative of the blurry relationship they have.
“I don’t know what to call it,” George says.
“I know,” Sapnap replies. “I don't know what to call it either.”
George glances around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before he looks back to Sapnap. “What do you want to call it?”
Sapnap raises his brows. “What do you want to call it?”
George gives a sigh. “Are we having this talk now?”
“When else will we have it?” Sapnap crosses his arms as George shuts off the main lights, plunging the two of them into darkness.
“I don’t know,” George replies. “In the morning?” He’s nothing but a shadow as he crosses in front of Sapnap. Sapnap refrains from reaching out to grab a wrist, pull him to his chest, demand an answer now. It doesn’t matter that much.
But it’d be nice to have some answers. And George had been right before. It’s been almost a month since that kiss in Sapnap’s dorm, lips greasy with Taco Bell yet the kiss still nice, in that way kissing someone you really, really like is. In kissing someone you could grow to love—maybe already love, deep, deep down—is.
“I just like knowing,” Sapnap finally says. “What’s wrong with that?”
A light flicks on, and when Sapnap takes a couple steps away from the counter, he realizes it’s the light for George’s bedroom. He stands out of place in the doorway before George takes notice and makes his way over to the other.
Sapnap gives him a tight smile once they’re face to face. George studies him for a second before sighing. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He pivots, going over to a set of drawers and tugging the middle one open. T-shirts and lounge pants are folded loosely inside. “I like knowing too.” He glances over his shoulder at Sapnap. “Do you think any of these will fit?”
George buys most of his clothes oversized. Just something Sapnap’s noticed about the other. “There’s a chance,” he replies. George tosses a few different pairs at him. Sapnap changes in the bathroom.
The first pair he tries doesn’t fit at all. He gives a small laugh to himself before grabbing the second. They fit better. The third look hot, flannel and dark, even for the weather, so he leaves them folded and tries his best to fold the other pair before dutifully marching back to George’s side to have him tuck them back into his drawer.
“We’ve been on a date before,” Sapnap says, “and a half. A date and a half. You could say we’re dating?”
“We’re about to literally sleep together,” George replies, and although his cheeks are flaming, the heat radiating off them in waves, his expression remains neutral, completely unamused. “I think we’re a bit past that.”
“So…,” Sapnap tries his luck, though he’s starting to think it less luck, and more a careful maneuver on George’s part, “you could say we’re boyfriends?”
“A bit gradeschoolish,” George replies.
Sapnap blinks at him.
George stares back before rolling his eyes and scoffing. “You’re so dumb. Yes, you could say we’re boyfriends.”
Immediately, the blank look drops off Sapnap’s face, and he grins, even as George turns on a lamp and brushes past him to turn off the bedroom light, completely ignoring him. Sapnap watches him disappear out the door and round the corner into the bathroom. There’s the sound of water running, then rummaging, then water running again, and then George’s head pops into the bedroom and he says, “I’ve got a spare toothbrush.”
Sapnap brushes his teeth and watches George’s shadow every time its reflection appears in the mirror. He holds back a sudsy laugh when he realizes the taste of George’s toothpaste is familiar. He rinses and spits then straightens and runs a hand through his hair. It’s gotten longer since the start of the semester. Since he’s met George. When he tugs his fingers through the ends, they get caught on knots. He does his best to untangle them without a brush. He gives up less than a minute in.
When he gets back into George’s room, George is already in bed, looking at something on his phone. Sapnap bites back a giddy smile, crawling into bed next to him, immediately pressing a kiss to his temple then sliding down the bed and wrapping an arm around his waist.
George sets his phone down on the bedside table before looking down at him. “You’re very affectionate,” he says.
“So I’ve been told,” Sapnap replies.
George stares at him for another handful of seconds. Sapnap stares back. George blinks, then stretches to turn off the lamp. They’re left in the dark once again.
Sapnap is forced to lift his arm when George gets properly under the covers, the sheets tugged up to his chin. He’s flat on his back, and when Sapnap sets his arm back down, this time across his chest, he can feel the tension in him. George takes in a breath, and when he lets it out, Sapnap feels it shudder.
“George,” Sapnap says, and then, a leap of faith, “baby.”
George turns his head. Beneath Sapnap’s arm, his heart pounds.
“C’mere,” Sapnap says. A second. Two seconds. George rolls onto his side. Now, they watch each other, face to face. Sapnap can’t pick up any details on George’s, the room too dark, the most he can figure out being the slope of George’s nose, the occasional movement of his eyes. The window is behind George. Sapnap wonders if George can see him more clearly.
Sapnap gets his arm further round George, pulling him close. When George lets out a breath, Sapnap feels it warm through his shirt. When George blinks, Sapnap feels the feathery kisses his lashes leave on his skin.
“You’re really warm,” Sapnap says.
From beneath the covers, George’s fingers twist and tangle in his shirt. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
A car passes by outside. George gives a small sigh. Sapnap brushes the pads of his fingers across the back of George’s neck.
“You can,” the words get muffled into Sapnap’s chest.
“What?” Sapnap asks.
George tilts his head back. “Your shirt,” he says. “You can take it off if you want.”
It’s Sapnap’s heart’s turn to pound.
George goes back to lying on his back. And then he rolls onto his side, but this time, he faces the window. Sapnap studies the curve of his shoulder. Then he sits up. And he pulls off his shirt.
He doesn’t really know what to do with it. Dropping it on the floor seems messy, but folding it and putting it on the bedside table just feels weird. No matter what, he’s not getting out of bed. He glances over and has to fight back the urge to jump. George has rolled back over, now staring at him.
Sapnap drops his shirt on the floor. George scoffs before rolling back over.
“I didn’t know what to do!” Sapnap immediately defends himself. He gets back under the covers. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” George replies.
Sapnap moves closer. “Stop,” George says.
Sapnap places a hand on George’s shoulder. It’s warm under his palm.
“Sapnap,” George says.
“George,” Sapnap replies. He runs his hand from George’s shoulder down to his chest. Again, he can feel his heartbeat. He pulls the other closer, so George’s back is pressed to his chest.
“No,” George says. “I’m not… spooning with you.” The word is spat with venom.
Sapnap sighs, nose tickled by the other’s hair. “Night, babe.”
“Sapnap.” George’s fingers curl around Sapnap’s wrist. They make no move to pull his hand away. He makes no move to push him away.
He still hasn’t said butterscotch. Sapnap is pretty sure he’s not going to say butterscotch. George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels him relax against his chest. Another car passes by. Sapnap hears it outside. Sees the change in lighting from behind his eyelids.
George lets out a quiet breath. “Whatever,” he finally says, more to himself than to Sapnap. “Night, Sapnap.”
Sapnap hums and delights in the shiver it sends through George. When he falls asleep, it’s to the steady sound of George breathing and the light movements of George tracing shapes on the back of his hand. Sapnap wonders what exactly it is he’s drawing. Wonders if he’s drawing anything in particular at all.
;;
When Sapnap wakes, George is still asleep. They’ve changed positions sometime in the night, both of them apparently being the type to spread out (and it had felt nice, Sapnap notes, not just to wake up next to George, but to wake up in a bed that he can actually stretch out in), so now George, Sapnap sees after sitting up all the way, has a foot just off the edge of the bed, the bump of it clear under the blanket, an arm flung back towards Sapnap, the other close to his head, fingers brushing the hair near his ear. The leg closer to Sapnap is tangled with Sapnap’s own. Sapnap’s not sure which of them is the cause for that.
There’s not much to do yet. It’s a Saturday, and while Dream didn’t have plans, he didn’t have any either. George might, but Sapnap is pretty sure that’s unlikely. He lets himself fall back onto the bed, head bouncing lightly against the pillow. George makes a soft sound from next to him. Sapnap takes his hand. He tries not to think the curl that appears at the corner of George’s lips is because of him.
George sleeps for another hour, Sapnap drifting in and out of wakefulness next to him. The final time Sapnap wakes, he knows he won’t be falling back asleep, but it doesn’t matter, because George huffs then slowly blinks open his eyes, staring blankly at the wall before looking over at Sapnap.
“G’morning,” he says.
“Morning,” Sapnap replies.
“Breakfast?” George asks.
“I’m down.”
Neither of them move.
George gives a soft laugh. Sapnap smiles at the sound.
“I might have eggs in the fridge,” George says. He looks over at the other. “I have apple juice.”
Still, neither of them move. Sapnap grins as George sighs and presses the heels of his palms over his eyes.
“There’s a diner on 3rd and Ashmore,” Sapnap tells him. “Want to try there?”
“Sounds good,” George replies.
They sit there for another second before George swings his legs off the bed and Sapnap leans over to pick his t-shirt off the floor.
“I might have a sweater you can wear,” George says. “You can put it on over your shirt.”
“Yeah?” Sapnap asks.
George tosses him a sweatshirt. It’s a pale grey, crewneck. Sapnap tugs it on over his head. It’s a little tight. George sighs, grabbing Sapnap’s jacket off the chair he had set it on the night before. “Never mind. It’s fine. Not like anyone saw you last night anyway.”
“Scared they’ll think you’re sleeping around?” Sapnap teases. George sends him an unamused look, taking the sweatshirt back when Sapnap hands it to him. “George the neighborhood whore?”
“Shouldn’t you be a little nicer to your boyfriend?” George asks, and while Sapnap is choking on his words, George sends him a playful look, hanging the sweatshirt back up in his closet.
Sapnap gets a grip on himself and gives him a smile back. “That’s not a no.”
“Yes,” George tells him, “because I’m just such a whore. Always sleeping around.”
Sapnap stands, going over to George, backing him up into the bedroom door. “I wouldn’t mind,” he says, “if that were the case. I know it’s not, but even if it were, I don’t care.”
“I don’t care either,” George replies. Sapnap wonders if George thinks that was the case with him. “I,” they had tentatively locked eyes, George’s occasionally glowing amber when caught by the morning light slipping through the blinds, but now, George looks away, at some distant point past Sapnap, “like you as you are. If that’s how you were, it wouldn’t matter. I like you.”
“Can I kiss you?” Sapnap asks, breath caught in his throat. At George’s concerned look, Sapnap waves a hand. “Morning breath, I—you—you seem like you’d care about that.”
George presses a kiss to the corner of Sapnap’s lips. Sapnap lifts a hand and runs his fingers along George’s chin, gets pricked by the short, short stubble there, then tilts his head and kisses George proper on the lips. George kisses back.
When they separate, George keeps his eyes closed. Sapnap bumps their noses together.
“In the future,” George says, “I’ll care about that.”
Sapnap really wants to say I love you.
“I’m sure you will,” he says instead.
;;
For breakfast, Sapnap has steak and eggs. George has French toast. To drink, he has apple juice. Sapnap stares into his own black coffee.
“Very nice,” George tells him. “Very stereotypical.”
“Are you really judging my food choices right now?” Sapnap asks.
George lifts his cup to his lips, taking a sip of his juice as he raises a single brow. Sapnap tries to be defiant, firm in his choices, but his eyes are continually drawn to George’s throat, the pale skin there. His gaze is only broken by George setting the glass back down. Sapnap swallows. He can’t say if George’s eyes following the movement is deliberate.
He looks back up. George has moved on, cutting into his toast, taking a bite.
“It’s good,” he says, once he’s swallowed. “How’s yours?”
Sapnap cuts into his steak. It’s good.
They eat, and their legs once again tangle, this time under a table instead of blankets.
;;
Despite what they had all told each other the day before, George and Sapnap end up not seeing Dream again.
“Sorry,” he tells them over a Discord call, George and Sapnap both at George’s computer, Sapnap having dragged the chair in the corner of George’s bedroom over to the desk. “Someone kind of high profile asked me to code something for them. I wasn’t going to turn it down. It was a good offer.”
“We didn’t expect you to turn it down,” George replies. “We don’t want you to turn it down.”
“Yeah, man,” Sapnap agrees. “That’s great. Secure that bag.”
“Secure that bag?” George echoes. “Seriously?”
“Let’s get this bread,” Sapnap says solemnly. “Make his pockets hurt.”
“I already did,” George replies.
“Still,” Dream cuts in easily, making George and Sapnap immediately stop, heads turning once again to the computer, “I’m sorry. I’ll see you Monday or Tuesday maybe.”
“You want a rematch?” George asks him. “It’s been awhile since I’ve completely obliterated you.”
“Whatever,” Dream laughs. “I’ll see you.”
“See you,” George and Sapnap agree. And then the call ends. And then it’s just them.
Part of Sapnap feels like he’s overstaying his welcome. Part of him wants to overstay his welcome, wants to stay forever. Part of him feels like George would say something if he were. If not get out , then butterscotch or something. But George has stayed silent, content to have Sapnap by his side.
At that thought, Sapnap leans over, a hand coming to rest on George’s thigh. George shifts, and Sapnap’s hand falls. That was the movement’s intention. Sapnap readjusts, placing his hand on the edge of George’s chair. George returns to his previous position. Sapnap leaves his hand where it is.
George takes a breath then leans back, head rolling on his neck to look over at Sapnap. “Got any work to do?”
“Nope,” Sapnap replies, popping the p. George hums, eyes slipping shut.
“Got any plans at all?”
“Nope,” Sapnap repeats. “No obligations, nowhere I need to be. I can go home if you want me to, though.”
“You don’t need to,” George replies. And then he glances behind to the bed. “I might take a nap.”
“You want me to say something,” Sapnap says, eyes narrowing. “What is it?”
George looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I want you,” he says, “to do whatever you think you should be doing right now.”
And with that, he rises from his chair, tugs off his tennis shoes, and falls onto the bed.
“In jeans?” Sapnap asks him, crossing his arms as best as he can at the angle he’s at.
George grunts. Sapnap sighs, taking the pair of sweatpants George had left on the dresser and dropping them on the bed next to George.
“You want any water or anything?” he asks.
George keeps his eyes closed. “I’m good, thanks.”
Sapnap studies him for a second before heading to the bathroom.
He really has no idea what George wants from him.
Really, going into the bathroom was just him stalling, more for George’s benefit than his—he’s completely certain he’ll reenter George’s bedroom to see the other wearing the sweatpants he had set next to him—but he does use it as a moment to wonder just what he’s supposed to be doing.
When he goes back into George’s room, the other is lying the way he had been when he left, but, just as Sapnap thought, he’s now wearing sweatpants, an arm thrown across his eyes.
Sapnap takes a seat next to him, then lets out a breath and lets himself relax back onto the bed. George’s arm falls from his eyes. Together, they stare up at the ceiling.
“Can we just stay like this?” George finally asks.
Sapnap looks over at him.
George remains looking at the ceiling.
“Like what?”
“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap.” George’s fingers brush his. Sapnap fights the urge to take them. “It’s a lot for me.” George finally turns his head and meets Sapnap’s eyes.
Sapnap holds his breath. George’s fingers run up his arm, tickle quick over his shoulder, finally scratch through the slight beard he has. “Sorry,” Sapnap says.
George takes a breath, then shifts, turning himself onto his side. “Not your fault. It’s just new. A lot of this is,” he gives a quiet exhale, “new.” His fingers still press against Sapnap’s skin. They’re warm. Sapnap swears when they fall away, his skin will be stained red.
“I like it,” George finally says. “New is good.”
“That’s good,” Sapnap says.
“It is,” George agrees. “I like this a lot.”
“In the future, you’ll care?” Sapnap asks.
George laughs, gentle, soft. “I already do.”
;;
The rest of the weekend passed slowly, time molasses. Sapnap hadn’t spent the night again, the two of them finally napping, then Sapnap slipping out when they next woke, delivering a kiss to George’s lips then tugging his jacket over his shoulders and heading out into the October cold. He’d taken his time on the walk home, an opposite of Friday night—reluctance to leave, each step heavier than the last. By the time he gets to his dorm, he swears his feet are stone.
Wearily, he eyes his desk. Atop it lay various assignments, all at different degrees of completion. Most aren’t due till Friday or the next week entirely—he’d meant it when he told George he’s got nothing he needs to be doing—but with nothing to take his immediate attention anymore, he finds himself wondering if now would be a good time to complete it all.
He gets through an assignment and a half before he finds his thoughts wandering. Some of them go towards eating; he and George had slept through lunch, and now it’s practically dinnertime, and Sapnap is hungry. But most of them go towards George, towards a thought he’d had that morning.
I love you.
He rolls the thought around in his mind. Reshapes it.
I love you, George.
A beat.
“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap. It’s a lot for me.”
Sapnap groans, head coming to rest in his hands. When he lifts his head again, he pushes his hair back. An I love you now would be too soon. They’ve just declared themselves boyfriends, and now Sapnap is thinking about I love yous.
It is a lot. For anyone. Sapnap is the odd one out here. He knows it’s a problem, but he just doesn’t know any other way to be.
;;
meeting dream today, gonna try and kick his ass. wish me luck?
Sapnap smiles down at the text that lights up his phone. Kick his ass babe, gl but u got this
thanks
Sapnap slips his phone back into his pocket. It vibrates. Sapnap pulls it out once more.
It’s probably the bare minimum. There’s no words involved. But it stops Sapnap short, leaving him staring down at his screen with wide eyes. He wonders if he’s pink. His skin feels warm.
<3
It means something. It’s George. It has to mean something.
;;
“I brought Taco Bell,” George announces when Sapnap swings the door open.
George pushes past him easily, setting the bags at an empty spot on Sapnap’s desk while Dream brings up the rear, shirt wet with condensation from their drinks.
“It only felt right,” George tells him as Dream gives him his Baja Blast.
“I’m here this time, though,” Dream says, pulling out a burrito from one of the bags George sat down. “Please don’t make any jumps in your relationship while I’m still in the room, thanks.”
George glares at him then takes a menacing bite of his Quesarito.
Sapnap turns to Dream with wide eyes. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”
“It won’t be,” George says.
“I didn’t realize you’re so sentimental, George,” Dream finally speaks up after a few minutes of them just eating their food.
“I’m not,” George replies.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Dream sends him an unamused look, but George just gives him one right back.
“Really,” he says. “I’m not.” He glances at Sapnap. Dream catches it. “I’m not really doing this for myself, anyway.”
Sapnap flushes, staring down at his gordita. Dream looks between them, blinks, exhales. Sapnap thinks he’s going to say something ridiculous. All he says is, “Couples,” and that’s that.
George catches his eye, smiles, and it’s like they’re sharing a secret. Sapnap likes it.
He loves it.
;;
With a new week comes the panic of midterms. Sapnap had thought he’d been overwhelmed before, but now he’s drowning, completely slipping under murky waters.
George pulls him out with a heated chocolate croissant and a pat on the head.
Sapnap smiles at him as he walks away.
Dream sits on a chair next to him, flipping through one of the New Yorker s left on the little table in front of them. Sapnap blinks at his laptop before setting it aside and stretching. “You’re so lucky, man,” he tells Dream, who gives a noncommittal hum and turns a page. “I mean it. Midterms are the worst.”
“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “Tests are annoying.”
“They’re dumb,” Sapnap says, conviction coloring his words. “Memorization is dumb.”
“Just a couple more years of this,” Dream replies.
Sapnap sighs, picking up the chocolate croissant and taking a bite. “Just a couple more years.”
After a few more minutes, Dream heaves a sigh. “It’s getting to me,” he says.
“Sorry,” Sapnap replies, like he can in some way change the strength of the coffee.
“It’s fine,” Dream dismisses, then he stands, dropping the magazine back onto the table. “See you later.”
Sapnap sends him a smile as he waves at George, who’s moved back behind the counter.
“See you!” George calls as the door slides shut behind Dream.
“That was pretty long, I think,” Sapnap says when George makes his way over a few minutes later, now on break, taking up Dream’s empty chair. “We’d been here almost an hour.”
“That is long,” George agrees. “How long are you staying?”
“You get off at four?” Sapnap asks, and George nods. “Want to get dinner with Dream and I after?”
“Of course.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back.
;;
Despite all of his manic studying—or perhaps because of it—midterms the next week pass by relatively quickly, him coming out of his last class Friday tired but content. He doesn’t really think he got an A, but he’s sure his mark will be pretty damn close.
A few hours and a billion failed Minecraft speedruns later, Sapnap gets a message from Dream.
I know movie nights r every other week, but u just finished midterms. Wanna come over?
Sapnap’s at the other’s house before he even thinks about it. “Uh, yes, I want to come over,” he tells Dream when the other opens the door. “What are we watching?”
“Whatever you want,” Dream replies. “You’re the one who’s got nothing to worry about anymore.”
Sapnap grins, plucking a movie off the shelf. “Here,” he hands it to Dream. “Popcorn?”
“You know it,” Dream replies, getting the movie set up.
When the popcorn is done, Dream is on the couch, remote in hand. “Good?”
Sapnap nods, setting the bowl between them.
The movie passes by quickly, and they move onto the next one—it turns into a right marathon by the time the sun has set, and eventually, the bowl of popcorn is empty, and they’re leaning against one another in the center of the couch.
At a lull in the movie, a quiet moment between the two main characters, Sapnap speaks:
“I think I’m in love with George.”
Dream is quiet for a moment. Sapnap feels him shift against him. Their shoulders press together. “He’s easy to love,” Dream echoes his words from weeks before.
“Easy to scare,” Sapnap replies.
More movement.
“Is there ever a right time to say I love you?” Dream asks. “If you love them, let them know.”
“He told me that I’m a lot,” Sapnap tells him. “That I’m a lot for him.”
“I’m sure he didn’t say it like that,” Dream says. Sapnap gives a half-hearted shrug. Dream sits up, angling himself to better face Sapnap. Sapnap imitates his pose. Like this, he can only see half of Dream’s face, one side lit up by the TV screen, the other cast in shadow. “It’s been a month,” Dream continues, “and a half. I think George is the type of guy where, if he feels like you’re too much, if he doesn’t like you, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to sit there, miserable, waiting for you to pull the plug.”
Dream is right because of course he is, but Sapnap still shifts, uncomfortable. “I just… I am a lot. We don’t spend all the time together, but I’m so much more affectionate than he is, and it’s like… I already love him, and—and—we have a safeword, Dream. Like this is some BDSM thing. But it’s not for that, it’s for how much I fucking hold his hand.”
“But isn't that proof?” Dream asks. “That’s communication. Compromise. He wants this to work, Sap. He wants to be with you. Wants you.” He smiles, hand reaching between them to hold Sapnap’s shoulder. “He wants the guy that’s pushy and loud and in your face, the guy that drinks too many vanilla fraps and gets competitive over everything and likes to cuddle. He wouldn’t have decided to go out with you—hell, I don’t even think he’d have kissed you—if that isn’t who he wanted.” He leans back, hand stroking warm down Sapnap’s arm, and the minute it falls back into his lap, Sapnap leans forward to throw his arms around the other.
“I love you,” Sapnap says, turning his face to press his nose into Dream’s neck. “I’m so lucky you’re my best friend.”
Though his arms are pinned awkwardly to his sides, Dream still manages to reach and get his hands on Sapnap’s waist where he squeezes the other in a poor imitation of a hug. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t my best friend,” he replies. “I love you too.”
When Sapnap pulls away, Dream smiles. “But I don’t think I’m the one you need to be saying I love you to, though.”
Sapnap sleeps on Dream’s couch that night and dreams of the different ways telling George he loves him could go.
He’s pleased to note that most of the scenarios end positively.
;;
Saturday he spends the night at George’s again. He lies in bed, quiet, with George next to him, one of the older’s hands holding his phone, the other affectionately brushing through Sapnap’s hair. Sapnap gives a quiet sigh before rolling over and touching his nose to George’s hip. George hums and twirls a lock of Sapnap’s hair around a thin finger.
“You okay?” George asks.
Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut and nuzzles further into the other's side. “Tired.”
“Fall break is coming up,” George consoles him, “and midterms are over.”
Sapnap nods, arm stretching out and over George’s waist. His fingers brush along George’s side, featherlight. George flinches away from it with a giggle. Sapnap tilts his head, eyes opening and gaze flitting to George’s face. It’s a bad angle, but he can still make out the smile there.
He loves George, he knows that now. He’s in love with George.
And George wants him. Wants the him that touches too much and feels too much and loves more than he should. George wants that. George has that. And he likes it.
Sapnap sighs, sinking back into George’s side. George plugs his phone in then turns off the lamp. Before he gets fully under the covers, Sapnap feels his fingers run through his hair one more time before a kiss is pressed to the top of his head.
“Goodnight, Sapnap,” George whispers.
Sapnap squeezes George as best as he can, delivers warm kisses to the parts of George he can reach. “Night, baby.”
George hums, touching the tips of their noses together (with the action, Sapnap swears he did some kind of witchcraft to steal his breath), before rolling over, back to Sapnap’s front. Sapnap bites back a smile. He wonders if George would call this spooning. Because that’s what it is.
He buries his nose in the soft hair at the nape of George’s neck. It’d be easy to say it now. Let the words slip out and if George questions him on it, he can blame it on sleep. A slip of the tongue.
But he doesn’t want it to be a mistake, even if that’s a lie to save his own face. He wants the words to be deliberate, the meaning of them felt by George wholly.
He sighs, and George shivers with it. Sapnap makes a small noise of apology.
“What’re you thinking about?” George finally asks.
Sapnap takes in a breath. He’s not sure what to answer.
“You don’t have to tell me,” George says.
“I want to,” Sapnap replies.
George exhales, the sound loud, before rolling back over. When he’s facing Sapnap, a hand comes up to hold Sapnap’s cheek.
“I think you’re more affectionate than you realize,” Sapnap tells him.
“I think you just make me affectionate,” George replies.
Sapnap stares at him. George stares back before he lifts his hand, fingertips remaining against Sapnap’s skin. He runs them over his cheek, then across his lower lip. And then they go back to his cheek, and George is moving to slot their lips together.
When they separate, Sapnap smiles. He’s pretty sure George smiles back. He presses one more kiss to George’s lips.
He could say it now. George’s fingers begin to tangle into the ends of Sapnap’s hair. His mouth is hot underneath Sapnap’s own. Their breath intermingles. Under the sheets, their legs have tangled together. The two of them are practically completely intertwined.
Against his lips, Sapnap feels George smile.
He says it.
The words hang heavy in the minimal space between them. Sapnap’s heart is equally heavy in his chest as he anticipates George’s reaction. He wants to ramble—apologize, take them back, clarify, tell him that he loves him but he isn’t in love with him (but he is)—but he doesn’t. The words are what they are. He means them.
Though his face seems to now be void of the smile he wore, George doesn’t move away, and they remain tangled together. George rubs his thumb over the curve of Sapnap’s cheek.
He feels George’s breath. George kisses him softly. And then he replies: “I can’t say it yet, Sapnap.” His other hand finds Sapnap’s own. Holds it. “I feel it. I’m, like, certain I do. But I can’t say it yet. Not like that.”
Sapnap sucks in a breath, closes his eyes, nods. “I get it. That’s fine. I love you, though. I just… wanted you to know.”
At that, George laughs, a quiet, warm sound. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.” A beat. And then, “The minute I can say it myself, I’ll tell you.”
Sapnap smiles. “I’m holding you to that.”
George rolls back over. Instead of waiting for Sapnap to curl around him, he backs up, pulls Sapnap’s arm over him. Readjusts so it’s even harder to separate their legs. “Goodnight, Sapnap.” He means it this time.
Sapnap closes his eyes, relaxes. The words are out there now. And George accepts them. No take-backs.
“Goodnight.”
;;
Neither bring it up later. It happened—Sapnap definitely told him—but the words stay only in the air between them, felt but never heard. They go on a walk, no destination in mind, just enjoying each other’s company, and at the local cafe (an actual cafe, not the Starbucks George works at), they split a hot chocolate topped with a mountain of whipped cream that ages them a hundred years only for those years to be wiped away with a thumb. At one point, George has some stuck to the corner of his lips, and Sapnap can’t help but lean forward to lick it away. Of course, George shrieks and shoves him back, flustered and grossed out, but his lips are upturned.
“Sweet,” Sapnap tells him.
“You’re so annoying,” George replies.
“You’re cute,” Sapnap shoots back.
George flushes and takes the mug from Sapnap’s hands, lifting it to his lips so he can hide the smile on his lips. It only works so well. Sapnap lets the moment go, though.
“Normally that’d be butterscotch,” George tells him as they exit the cafe. “I can’t believe you did that. That’s so disgusting.”
Sapnap laces their fingers together. George huffs.
“The only reason you got away with it is because I didn’t expect it.” George kicks a pebble lying in his path. “So annoying.”
Sapnap doesn’t bring it up, but he does say it again.
George stutters out a laugh. Sapnap feels George’s hand squeeze his. It’s enough.
;;
The weeks pass by quickly after that, and soon Sapnap finds himself Friday night sitting between George and Dream while an early 2000s sci-fi movie plays on the TV. They weren’t supposed to have movie night this week either, but come tomorrow morning Sapnap is supposed to head down south for Thanksgiving with his family, so this is their last hurrah together.
They’re a bit like dominoes, actually, Dream sitting normally on the couch, Sapnap’s back resting pressed against his side, and George leaning on Sapnap. Idly, he plays with Sapnap’s fingers. To add to George’s amusement, Sapnap flexes and stretches his fingers. Meanwhile, Dream tugs on his hair.
“It’s probably best you head home soon,” Dream says. “Not to kick you out, but it’s a long drive tomorrow.”
“How many hours away is Houston anyway?” George asks, voice muffled with the way his cheek is squished against Sapnap’s chest.
“Too many,” Sapnap says. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”
“We’ll miss you too,” Dream tells him.
George makes an affirmative noise.
“But it’s only for a week,” Sapnap says. “And then I’ll be back up here.”
“You don’t normally focus on that,” Dream tells him, more for George’s sake than his. Sapnap flushes, glancing down at George, who stares back with inquisitive eyes. “But I guess now you have something to come back to. Someone.”
“I like spending time with you.”
Dream scoffs. “Like distance ever mattered when it comes to us.”
“Huh?” George pushes himself up and Sapnap sends Dream a dirty look.
“I like cuddling with the homies well enough, but affection from you is way different from affection from George.” He pulls George back down on top of him. “Affection from you is like… a jacket. Nice to have, really nice, but not a necessity. George is a shirt. No shirt, no shoes, no service.”
Dream guffaws. “I hope I’m not just a jacket to you guys, but a friend too.”
“You’re my friend, Dream,” George tells him.
“I love you, George!” Dream immediately replies, and George hides a laugh in Sapnap’s chest.
The movie ends not long after that, and soon Sapnap is heading home.
“I can walk myself home just fine,” George tells him when they reach the intersection that Sapnap is supposed to turn at.
“But I like walking you home,” Sapnap replies.
“But you need to rest,” George tells him, smile on his face. He brushes a strand of hair out of Sapnap’s eyes. “I can help you pack your car in the morning?”
“Do you want to?”
George just continues to smile.
“Why are you like this?” Sapnap asks, and then he leans forward and George lifts a hand to cup the back of his neck. They kiss, and when they separate, Sapnap squeezes George’s waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Sleep well,” George replies.
“I’ll try.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back. George’s hand slips from his neck, and Sapnap’s hand falls from his waist. George starts to walk away. “Goodnight!” Sapnap calls after him. “Love you!”
“Goodnight, Sapnap!” George calls back.
;;
George greets him with a kiss and a coffee and bagel pressed into his hands. “For the road,” he says, and Sapnap thanks him, setting the things aside and drawing George into a deeper kiss than the chaste one he was given. “For the road?”
Sapnap grins. “For me. A week away from you. You know I need my kissies.”
“Don’t ever say that again,” George says. “Oh my God. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Sapnap laughs before tugging his backpack over his shoulders. Dragging his suitcase behind him, he leads George to the parking lot, where he lifts his suitcase and sets it into the trunk. “Seriously, though,” he says, “this’ll be fun.”
“An experiment,” George replies. “A week apart. How will we fare?”
Sapnap grins, and George smiles back.
“Remember me while I’m away,” Sapnap tells him. “Don’t go falling for the first pretty face you see.”
“Of course not,” George says solemnly, and Sapnap laughs. George studies him for a second before once again kissing him. “Three’s a lucky number.”
“I didn’t think you believed in luck,” Sapnap says.
“I don’t,” George replies.
Another kiss. George makes a small noise.
“Four,” Sapnap says. “Actually, I think that’s unlucky in China. I read that somewhere.”
One more.
“How’s five?” George asks.
“Eh,” Sapnap says. “Even numbers are better.”
“Seven is lucky.”
“Eight?”
“Pushing it.”
Sapnap leans away from where he’d come to pin George against the door. George straightens up, readjusts his shirt. Sapnap runs a hand through his hair. George tracks the movement with his eyes. Sapnap’s hand falls back to his side.
“Thanks,” he says.
George huffs a small laugh. “Don’t mention it.”
Sapnap studies him for a second before pulling him into a hug. “I really will miss you,” he says. “I’ll see you.”
“You’re getting on the server with Dream and I if you’re not too tired tonight, right?” George asks.
“Duh.”
George nods. Sapnap feels it against his neck.
“I’ll miss you too,” George finally says.
Sapnap holds him tighter.
;;
Despite the drama of him leaving, Thanksgiving passes by without much fuss.
They voice call a fair amount and when Sapnap gets to Houston he does hop on the SMP for a bit, a couple hours later passing out mid-call. When he wakes, the lights are all shut off and his blinds are closed.
He’s grateful.
Dream FaceTimes him on Thanksgiving, showing Sapnap his and George’s… creative feast.
“I still can’t believe you guys are having it together,” Sapnap tells the two, completely ignoring the football game on TV to focus entirely on them.
“Why shouldn’t we?” Dream asks him. “George’s family is in England, and it’s not like they celebrate, and I’m not going to Florida this year. Why not?”
That’s fair.
“Still,” Sapnap says anyway. “And did you just call every nearby restaurant?”
“It’s an assortment,” George says.
“But it’s good,” Dream continues. “Besides, it’s more about the leftovers than the meal.”
Also fair, and Sapnap finds himself with an array of Tupperware from his family’s Thanksgiving in his backseat as he drives back to school. When he’s back inside his dorm, staring at his minifridge, he realizes they won’t all fit in the small space.
“Can I use your fridge?”
“Welcome back, Sapnap,” George replies. “How was your break?”
“I’m offering you free food,” Sapnap says.
“And I’m asking how your break was.”
Sapnap makes a face. “Good. I’m happy to be back. Now, can I please use your fridge?”
A pause. “You only love me for my house,” George finally says. “That’s so wrong of you.”
It’s the first time George has ever brought up Sapnap’s love for him, even as a joke. Sapnap takes a breath. “I do love you for your house,” he replies, teasing before turning serious, “but I also love you for a lot of other reasons. You’re very lovable, you know.”
George is quiet for a second before Sapnap hears movement. “When are you coming over here?”
Sapnap gets an Uber, knowing parking near George’s apartment is risky at best. “Ten minutes?” he says when his phone tells him his driver will be there soon.
“Okay.” Sapnap listens as George putters around. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” George replies immediately, and then, “you’ll see.”
“M'kay,” Sapnap says. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Bye,” George says, and then ends the call.
Sapnap looks down into his plastic bag of remaining Tupperware. His phone pings—the driver’s outside.
;;
“Are you ready to eat leftovers for months?” Sapnap asks, setting the bags down on the counter. “Or at least as long as they last.”
George opens the first bag, pulling out a medium-sized container stuffed full of mashed potatoes. Immediately, he finds a place in his fridge to tuck it into. He does this with the rest of the containers, Sapnap taking them out and setting them on the empty counter space for George to pick up and put away. When they’re done, George comes to lean next to Sapnap.
“We survived,” he says.
“I knew we would,” Sapnap replies.
They’re on each other in an instant.
“I’m not usually into this,” George says hotly into his mouth.
“I know,” Sapnap says.
“I don’t know why I’m like this,” George continues.
“Do you need to know?” Sapnap asks.
George moans at the nip Sapnap gives to his lower lip.
“No,” George replies. “No.” Sapnap runs a burning trail of bites soothed by his tongue down George’s neck. “Sapnap.”
Against his skin, Sapnap smiles.
George gasps when Sapnap moves to press George into the couch instead, the cushions definitely comfier than the linoleum counter. “I missed you so much,” Sapnap says, each word punctuated by a kiss.
“You—Sapnap, yes—too.” George gets his fingers twisted and tangled into his hair, drags him up roughly. Sapnap bites back a groan at the sting and George pulls him into a bruising kiss. “Shit. I missed you.”
Sapnap lets himself be pulled down over George’s body, more than happy to press him further into the couch.
;;
George doesn’t let Sapnap skip his first class on Monday.
“School is important,” he tells him, zipping up his jacket like some mother hen. Sapnap makes a face when his hands brush imaginary dust off his shoulders.
“What are you going to do when I’m gone?” Sapnap asks.
George laughs. “Leaving for a week again?”
Sapnap gives him a dry look.
George smiles, soft. “I’m going to work. You’ll see me in, like, four… five hours at most. Is that really the end of the world?”
Sapnap grabs his hands from where they’d come to rest on his chest, pulling George in closer. “I just like spending time with you.”
“I love spending time with you too,” George says, “and you don’t see me clinging to you.”
“You think this is clingy?” Sapnap raises a brow in a silent challenge, and George tries to back up, but Sapnap just gives another tug to his hands before pulling him into a hug and wrapping his arms tight around him. “You wish I were clingy! You want me to be more clingy, actually.”
“I do not,” George replies, words warm against Sapnap’s ear. Sapnap holds back a shiver as George wriggles in his arms. “You’re… I like you like this.”
Sapnap holds him closer. George lets him.
He pulls away after a moment, the day finally catching up to them. “Class,” George tells Sapnap.
“Work,” Sapnap tells George.
They reach the Starbucks and George squeezes his hand. “See you,” he says.
“Love you,” Sapnap replies. And then George is disappearing into the cafe, the words dissipating in the growing space between them.
;;
The rest of the week passes by slowly, each day slouching into the next. Sapnap looks over at George, whose lips are wrapped pretty around a cake pop. He’s been quiet, more so than usual, and it sets Sapnap on edge, each word coming out of him more hesitant than the last.
Come Saturday, and he finds himself confronting the other.
“You’re avoiding me,” he says.
“I’m not avoiding you,” is immediately shot back, and Sapnap rushes forward, George bringing a hand up between them to push him away. “I’m not. I’m just….”
“I’m too much,” Sapnap says, filling in the words himself.
George is adamant. “No! You’re—you’re—you’re you, and I—Sapnap, I really—,” he makes a small noise and Sapnap tries to get closer again, but George’s hand comes back up and he mutters a quick butterscotch.
“What’s wrong?” Sapnap asks. “I did something.”
“You—no,” George shoves past Sapnap to get a glass and fill it up with tap water. He takes a quick drink before pouring the rest down the drain. “You love me so much,” he finally says.
“You’re lovable,” Sapnap replies. “Everything about you, George. It’s just—you’re so easy to love.”
“That’s what Dream had said,” George tells him, and Sapnap swallows at the lump that’s built in his throat like sediment, little bits and pieces added to the pile till it cuts off Sapnap’s airways and he’s left floundering, gasping for air. George gives a quiet laugh. “I thought,” he swallows, takes a breath in contrast to Sapnap’s struggle, “it was too soon. I’m not good at this, Sapnap.”
Sapnap moves to speak, but George continues, setting the glass in the sink before his fingers curl into the countertop, knuckles turning white from his grip. He takes another breath. “I love you,” he says, all in one breath. “It shouldn’t have happened so fast. I’m… I’m terrified, Sapnap.”
When Sapnap takes a hesitant step closer, George lets him. He lifts a hand and brushes back some of George’s hair before running his knuckles over George’s cheek, down to his neck. He curls his fingers around the back, brushes them through the short hair there. Under his palm, George is tense.
George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.”
And then he shrugs off Sapnap's hand, moves around him, disappears into his bedroom. Sapnap hears the door click. He stands alone in the kitchen, his only source of light the one over the stove. He thinks it might be dimmer than usual. He waits. George doesn’t come back out. Sapnap wonders if he’s been broken up with. George still doesn’t come back out.
Sapnap looks at the empty plastic bags on the counter. He gathers them in his hands. George can keep his leftovers. He never really wanted them anyway.
;;
“I think George broke up with me,” Sapnap accepts the apple slice Dream hands him, and at the sight of the fruit, it’s like the dam he tried to build surrounding thoughts of George breaks and all those pent up feelings come pouring out, “yesterday. He told me he loved me. And then he left me.” His grandma had made some apple cobbler. It sits on the second shelf of George’s fridge. George’s favorite fruit is apples.
Sapnap takes a bite out of the slice. Dream sits next to him on the couch, setting the tray of assorted fruit on the coffee table. “Did he actually say that?” Dream asks. “That he’s breaking up with you.”
“He left,” Sapnap repeats. “He said, ‘I love you. You’re too much for me.’ Then he just… walked into his room, shut the door, and that was it.”
“Talk to him again,” Dream says. “He told you he loved you. I don’t think that’s nothing for George.”
Sapnap sighs. It’s not. Dream smiles at him, and Sapnap leans over, resting his head on the other’s shoulder.
“It’ll be fine,” Dream tells him. “Communication is always key.”
As always, he’s right.
;;
He doesn’t want to have any major conversations at Starbucks, but he feels if he doesn’t do it now he won’t do it at all. There hasn’t been any word between him and George since that conversation in the kitchen, but Sapnap doesn’t let that deter him, instead pressing on determinedly as he walks inside and sees George’s usual station devoid of, well, George.
“Called in sick today,” Sarah tells him as she finishes putting whipped cream on someone’s drink. “Thought he’d have told you.”
Sapnap blinks. “Uh,” he says, and then, “think he fell back asleep before he could. Thanks.” Sarah waves nonchalantly, but Sapnap is out the door before he can see it.
The walk to George’s has him tugging at the drawstring of his hoodie, the chill settling deep within him, unshakeable now, especially without George’s easy warmth by his side. He’s never been more grateful to see the steps leading up to the older’s apartment than he is at this moment.
And then he has to wait, much the same way he did Saturday, wait for George to see his text, call him back, answer his knock.
He waits, and he waits, and he waits.
The lock clicks, and the door creaks open. Sapnap swears his fingertips are turning blue.
“George,” he says immediately, just to have said something , and then the door is opening wider and Sapnap is rushing into the apartment, getting himself fully inside before George can reconsider.
In the sink, he spies empty Tupperware containers.
George stands next to the couch. Sapnap swallows.
“George,” he says again. “I missed you.”
“It was only a day, Sapnap,” George replies. His voice is quiet.
“You said I love you to me,” Sapnap says. George stays silent. Sapnap falters, continues: “I love you too, and I know I’m a lot, but George,” he comes closer—George lets him—he places a hand on George’s waist—George lets him, “I’ll… you once told me I can’t dial it down, or whatever, and this is me telling you that for you, I’d dial it down. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t, but I want to try. For you. You said you’d try for me. You need to know I’d do the same for you.”
George laughs, but it’s an empty, hollow sound, just air shoved past his lips. “I don’t think it’s as easy as that.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Sapnap asks. “You said it happened so fast. What happened so fast?”
George mutters something. Sapnap moves closer. George pushes him back. “Falling in love, dumbass. I was in love with you before I even realized it was love I was feeling.” He keeps his hand in front of him, a visible barrier between him and Sapnap. “Am feeling.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Sapnap asks. “What are you so afraid of?”
George doesn’t reply.
“It’s only as complicated as you let it be,” Sapnap says. “I’m—we’re—we’re in love with each other, George.” His voice is firm. George finally meets his eyes. Dark and inscrutable as ever. Sapnap is in love with him. “Isn’t that enough? Just for right now, tell me it isn’t enough.”
George moves, a mirror image of the him in Sapnap’s dorm on Tuesday months ago, bringing their lips together and kissing Sapnap with purpose. When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes sparkle. “I can’t. I can’t tell you it isn’t enough. But I won’t say it’s not either.”
“I love you,” Sapnap says, reflex. He presses a kiss to George’s lips, presses one to his cheeks, his chin, nose, forehead. “I love everything about you.”
“You too,” George says. “I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“You don’t need to know,” Sapnap replies. “Just love me. Be in love with me.”
George’s fingers twist in the fabric of his hoodie, pull him closer. Their noses touch and Sapnap feels every single one of George’s breaths on his lips. They’re heavy. So are his own. When George speaks, he may as well be putting the words directly into Sapnap’s mouth, the two of them working as one. “I love you,” he says, and so does Sapnap. “I love you and being with you and being in love with you.”
“It won’t be perfect,” Sapnap says. (So does George.)
“But it doesn’t need to be.” George seals their lips together. He’s right. Neither of them need it to be perfect. Nor, Sapnap thinks, as George wraps an arm around his neck, draws him closer, holds him tighter, do either of them want it to be.
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could you tell us more about the brarg family au with the 3 babies and trans luci?
I definitely can! This au has been living rent free in my head since i started that drawing and I was actually sketching more stuff for the AU right before I got this ask so- I definitely can ramble more about it
This was supposed to be just a collection of a few hcs and now it’s a multi-pages word document the size of a fanfic so – Im really sorry.
I didn’t think a lot about their backstories tbh, though I have it in my mind that Luciano transition in his late teens and that he and martin either met after that or knew each other before luciano came out, lost all contact, and then met again after (and you can blame oxiosas fic for that yeah im not even subtle)
But I imagine them having some sort of meet cute and kinda progressing really fast in their relationship without realizing – yk, its just a fling, no big deal, yeah ive met his parents, yes I basically spend every weekend in his apartment, yeah I have a spare key now, ops I guess we’re adopting dogs and plants together- oh I think we’re married. Yeah. We’re married.
Ok but for real Luci does the proper proposal-with-a-ring-and-knelt-down-on-a-special-day thing and Martin is just bright red saying yes over and over again
It is Afonso (port) the first to be all WHERE ARE MY GRANDCHILDREN like… the night of their wedding.
They live in a house in a not too big city with two dogs, one cat, one parrot and all the birds that Luciano feeds and names that aren’t actually theirs. Still, they choose the house with two spare rooms because they always talked about having two kids.
In this AU they can buy a nice house and don’t have to worry about money and can raise kids like the world isn’t ending.
I think right after they got married they got in line for adoption. However, everything indicated that it would take a long long time so they started talking about the possibility of trying to have a biological kid. I think luci was the one to suggest it when he noticed martin had been thinking about it but not saying anything for a while.
Lots of boring doctor visits and confused doctors looking at luciano and trying to process it like the dumb cishets they are. Boring exams and all that, but everything is on track eventually, luci pauses his hrt and keeps his jockstrap on the drawer and they’re googling the best positions for fertility on those weird cishet sites and doing it like bunnies etc etc
Getting pregnant the natural way after years of testosterone is not the easiest thing in the world, so it takes a while. But eventually it works.
Both of them are kinda freaking out with this whole first pregnancy thing. Martin is the ultimate protective husband, and spends way too much time on the internet finding out what luciano can and can’t eat, what exercises he should do, and going to every single doctor visit. He’s very committed to it.
Luciano has to drink non-alcoholic beer and hates life. There’s a single teardrop shed every time he buys it. And drinks a lot of lemonade like it’s the same as caipirinha. Poor guy. Martin doesn’t help on that, life isn’t fair, he buys his own beer.
But he also has to drive absurd lengths to find the weirdest fruit or make the most hideous, blasphemous pizza toppings because Luciano is constantly craving absurd shit. But poor baby actually really NEEDS that chicken M&M pizza at 8am.
They’re super proud daddies though, and both their instagrams at this point are just baby belly pictures. Luci had top surgery on this au on my hc so also. Lots of shirtless pics. He looks like an old uncle with a beer belly and he’s PROUD. Just. Baby bellies all over.
Martin picks the entire baby layette. Because of course he does.
Their baby shower is a huge deal though. Their dads are there, Antonio brings an entire trunk filled with diapers and tells everyone how many tincho used to need when he was a baby, Afonso is cooking for everyone and talking about how he’s gonna be a grandfather (!!!). Iracema (pindorama) is scolding Luci about his bad habits while also quietly being a super proud grandma. Zola (angola) bought toys because she knows that’s what kids actually like, Samero (Mozão) keeps asking if they installed all the necessary security stuff in their house – we will, chill, we still have some months to go – Vera (Tomé) is teasing Simão (Timor) about him no longer being the family baby, Fatima (g.bissau) is another one who bought a huge amount of diapers, Rosinha (cabo verde) is taking pictures of everyone and everything, Sebas and Dani are discussing if the kid should speak Portuguese or Spanish, Maria brought a huge pink plushy as a gift, it’s quite a party.
Once they’re late in the pregnancy, Luciano mostly spends his time on Martin’s oversized t-shirts asking for foot rubs and not getting much sleep because the baby keeps moving. Martin on the other hand is a little nervous about being a dad, but absolutely loves feeling the little kicks and talking to the baby all the time, except when its 3am and he wants to sleep but Luci cant because of it so he just does his best to keep him company. He mostly ends up falling asleep on his chest though and doesn’t help much
I wrote all of this but I still don’t have a name for the girl lol Anyway, she’s finally born, and if martin was overprotective when Luciano was pregnant, he’s ten times more with his baby girl. Tbh theyre both kinda going crazy with this whole parenting thing, both are overprotective, tired, and have no idea what theyre doing.
Zola and Sebastian are the girl’s godparents. Sebastian isn’t very good with kids so when he takes care of his niece he either puts on a tv show and lets her eat whatever crap she wants, or relies on Daniel to do the actual taking care, since he is good with kids.
Luciano and Martin are very much neurotic first-timers and have all this schedule of what their girl can eat and when and when she has to sleep etc etc.
When Zola takes care of her, she just ignores it and does it her way. She helped raised Luci since he was a baby anyway, he survived just fine and even married and reproduced, she knows what to do better than both the dumbasses, and they never even find out.
Afonso on the other had follows everything when he’s with his granddaughter, determined to be a better grandfather than he was a father, and the baby loves him so he’s doing a good job.
They’re a very cute family yes yes
She grows up well and happy, a bit shy maybe but very smart and sweet, loves the dogs and her aunts and uncles and granddads (afonso more than antonio though)
By the way, Iracema is soft like butter with her granddaughter.
When she’s about four or five years old they start talking about having a second one, considering the age difference and all. So back to doctors, Luci stops the hrt again and they go back to trying, but again it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do it naturally after years of hrt.
But god listens to the prayers of such good catholic family, and right after they start thinking about a second child, they receive the news they will finally get to adopt a baby.
Luciano is the one to receive the news, he’s working at home when the social worker comes to tell him they can finally adopt. He’s extremely happy, he hugs the poor lady and is barely able to concentrate as she explains the paperwork that is left and the details of it because he can’t stop smiling.
He immediately texts martin saying something like “CALL ME RIGHT NOW WE NEED TO TALK” and it’s in happy caps but martin understands it wrong and thinks someone is dying or dead but then his phone is what dies so he gets home as fast as he can thinking all the worst scenarios just to find luciano jumping on him with a smile for ear to ear. It’s such a shock he takes a while to react but when he does you have two idiots so happy they can’t function.
It’s another girl, she has big brown eyes like her sister and it’s a few months old.
They quickly reassemble the crib and paint the second room to get everything ready in time to take her home, and the next week or so it’s nothing but all the family visiting to meet their new baby.
Since they managed to adopt, they decided to stop trying to have another kid. Luciano goes back to the doctor do some routine exams so that he can go back to testosterone and the doctor just awkwardly explains that, well, that won’t be exactly possible. Not for the next eight months, at least.
He’s quite shocked at that, and takes him a while to tell martin. They just got a new baby and do they even have space to raise three kids? Eventually it just escapes from him and martin is shocked as well, but ultimately both of them are just worried about their place being too small, and once they relax about that they can’t shut up about having another baby on the way to anyone.
Still, it’s not easy to manage, martin is just as worried as he was with their eldest, except that this time he’s simultaneously worried about their new baby and about Luci’s pregnancy. Poor dude needs a break asap. So he’s trying to do most of the work of caring for a little baby to spare luciano from the stress, while also taking care of him as well as he did the other time.
Luci is more chill about being pregnant, he’s done this before, he’s fine. He’s even a little too chill about it, as shown in the art, he still wants to carry their kid on his shoulder and having a few sips of martin’s beer is no big deal and honestly he’s fine, he can help with the baby, and Tincho just needs to relax and it will all be fine.
Again, poor tincho needs a break.
Some things don’t change though. Them being super proud daddies who do nothing but take pictures of their kids and Luci’s belly every chance they get. And they’re really happy and excited to have their house full and this big family.
Just a good cute family AU where nothing bad ever happens thank you very much. Yet it took me almost 2k words to say it. I have no self control and I’m very sorry. However, if anyone has their own hcs to add about this whole au, I will be more than happy to hear and talk about this AU even more than I’ve already done.
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various yule ball shenanigans (trr hogwarts au)
drabble about yule ball drama and dumb idiots who can’t communicate for the trr hogwarts au. in a perfect world, there would be some prior context for how this all came about, but an au drabble is an au drabble and i need to stop obsessing over making it into a full fledged fic lmao.... hope this tides u guys over until i finally post my mawell fic aslkdfj im a rat sorry lov u all!!
They’re sitting in the common room when it happens. It starts innocuously enough, Drake practicing his levitation spells for Charms (still failing) while Maxwell watches and provides exactly zero helpful input. Riley has only just entered, nose pink from the cold, unwinding a scarf from around her neck.
“Hey Riley,” Maxwell calls as she passes by the both of them, heading towards her room. “We’re meeting up tomorrow afternoon for extra bludger practice with the alternates. Just confirmed it with the Captain.”
“I can’t tomorrow,” she says, breezing past in an unusually casual way.
“Hold up.” Maxwell makes a face at her. “What do you mean, you can’t? You don’t have other plans. I would know.”
She pauses, turning around to look at him in annoyance. “You don’t know everything about me. And as a matter of fact, I do have plans. I’m going shopping with Hana for a Yule Ball dress.”
“You’re going to the Yule Ball?” Maxwell raises his eyebrows. “I thought you were protesting.”
“I was,” Riley seems to savor answering, looking him square in the face while she does. “But then Liam asked me.”
Drake drops his spell immediately, the tea falling along with it, but Riley merely raises a hand and deftly redirects the mug to a nearby side table. Maxwell, meanwhile, is outright staring.
“Liam?” He says, flabbergasted. “Drake’s Liam?”
Riley bristles. “He’s not anybody’s Liam, he’s just himself. And he asked me, so I said yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” She frowns, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t see either of you asking me, anyway.”
“When did he ask you?” Drake says, too taken aback to even bother with Maxwell’s line of questioning. “Today?”
“It was a few days ago, actually.” Riley is clearly trying to act casual about the whole thing, fiddling absently with her wand, yet the furtive glances she keeps sneaking at the two of them are anything but.
“A few days?” Maxwell repeats. “You never said anything!”
“I’m saying it now, aren’t I?”
“But... why did he ask you?”
Her eyes flash. “Is it so hard to believe I’m likable?”
“That’s not what I meant—“
“I’m going to bed,” Drake says, standing abruptly. He doesn’t meet Riley’s eyes, only sweeps up his things from the table and moves briskly towards the sleeping quarters. He can feel their eyes boring into him as he leaves, but it’s better than having to spend one more second in that room wondering how on earth he could’ve been such an idiot.
Riley. Of course it would be Riley. Spunky, intelligent, athletic Riley, with her long dark hair and ever-present laughter. Why else would Liam spend so much time with them, go to their matches, stay for holiday? He’d probably asked Hana to introduce them in the first place.
Drake tosses his bag on the ground next to his bed, sitting down on the mattress with a sigh. He stares across the way for a moment, eyes unfocused, before falling back onto the comforter.
He can’t even be mad. She’s his best friend.
Maxwell finds him like this not too soon after, barging into their room in that unceremonious way he always does, instantly taking up space. “Can you believe that?” He says, as though they’re merely continuing a conversation from seconds ago. “And she’s not even lying. I checked.”
“Why are you upset?” Drake rolls onto his side, watching as Maxwell splays on top of his own bed across the way. “It’s not like this affects you.”
“I’m not upset,” Maxwell counters, frowning up at the ceiling. “I’m... it’s on your behalf. I’m upset for you.”
“I don’t need your manifested pity, but thanks.”
“How do you have any friends, Drake? Seriously.”
Drake lifts his head up to frown in Maxwell’s direction. “Aren’t you supposed to be cheering me up or something?”
“No, I came in here because I’m upset.” Maxwell pauses, seemingly realizing what he’s said a moment too late. “Upset for you. You made me upset.”
“Sure.” Drake falls back down against his pillow, closing his eyes.
“It’s just so weird that she didn’t tell us,” Maxwell continues, seemingly oblivious to Drake’s disinterest. “I mean, that’s big news, right? You’d expect her to tell us, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think she likes Liam?” Maxwell sits up at this realization, looking over at Drake with wide eyes. “What if she’s going with him in like, a romantic sense?”
“Christ, Maxwell, I don’t know.”
Maxwell bites his lip, looking out into the distance, suddenly pensive. “I just don’t get it. I don’t get why she wouldn’t tell me. We tell each other everything.”
He goes quiet, still staring at nothing in particular, brow furrowed. The silence stretches on long enough for Drake to actually hazard a glance over in his direction. As much as he loves moments of solitude, they’re few and far between where Maxwell is concerned.
“You okay?”
Maxwell looks down at his hands, twisted together in his lap. “I don’t understand girls.”
---
At Quidditch practice the next morning, Riley sidles up to Drake before their huddle, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice as gentle as a whisper, and equally as soft. “I don’t know why I didn’t say anything to you, I just…”
He focuses intently on his broom, not quite ready to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But it feels like I did, you know?” She frowns, looking down at her hands. “I owe you more than to act like that.”
Drake shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re my friend.”
“I owe it to you because I’m your friend,” she insists, “It was shitty of me, okay? It was.”
He isn’t quite sure what to say, so he just nods.
She sighs, running her fingers through her hair, somehow leaving it even messier than before. “If it makes any difference, I don’t feel that way about him. I’m not that much of an asshole, I promise.”
“I know,” Drake says, “but... maybe he feels that way about you.”
“It would be stupid of him. He doesn’t even know me, not really.”
Drake shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He doesn’t know me either.”
Riley turns to look at him, jaw set in determination. “Well, he should. Because I know you, and I think he would be lucky to have that privilege.”
He shoots her a small smile. “Thanks, Brooks.”
“I’m serious. You and Max are some of the only people who’ve never judged me for where I come from, not for a second. Maybe you don’t think that’s a big deal, but when you’ve never had a family and then you get the chance to go to this incredible place filled with actual magic, only to be called ‘mudblood’ by half a dozen assholes before you’re even off the train…” She sighs. “It means a lot, okay? It means everything.”
“Riley—”
“Look, I’d never jeopardize our friendship for anything. I’ll tell Liam I can’t go.”
“No, don’t do that. It’s okay, really.”
He can tell by the way she looks at him that she doesn’t believe him, which is fair, because he doesn’t believe himself either. “You’re sure?”
The Captain interrupts before he can answer, perhaps a saving grace in itself. “Brooks, Walker — if you’re quite finished?”
#trr hogwarts au#driam#maxwell x mc#the royal romance#trr fanfic#my fic#legit this is not proofread and also exists without true plot leadup#ugh the way its so hard for me to post drabbles ASDKFJ#i am trying to remind myself that they can just. be
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30🆘33🆘34 AAAAAAAAAAAAA 🥳🥳🥳🥳
#30: “you’re secretly so soft, don’t even deny it.”
#33: “let me kiss your pouty lips.”
#34: “okay that’s it, you’re definitely my soulmate.”
A/N: @taexxxiiaa means with Heatwave!Taehyung loll she got too excited…! Any fic member drabbles are non-canon so this could have happened in the Heatwave world but only hypothetically/possibly!!
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“Fuck.” Taehyung looks at his phone screen as it lights up so blindingly bright after plugging it into the charger. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. FUCK!”
[23 unread message]
-23:01-
Roommate hoe: yo wya
-23:05-
Roommate hoe: y u always late
Roommate hoe: u better be on ur way
-23:14-
Roommate hoe: bitch where r u
-23:16-
Roommate hoe: kim taehyung
Roommate hoe: taehyung kim
Roommate hoe: hyung kim tae
-23:17-
Roommate hoe: can u at least reply
-23:19-
Roommate hoe: im getting so pissy
-23:20-
Roommate hoe: n cold
-23:29-
Roommate hoe: where the fuck r u
-23:31-
Roommate hoe: u better not be dead in a ditch somewhere or i killu
-23:33-
Roommate hoe: answer ur phone
-23:45-
Roommate hoe: 45 mins late
Roommate hoe: no sex for u tonight
Roommate hoe: i’m rly mad @ u
Roommate hoe: i’m sleeping with someone else tn
-23:49-
Roommate hoe: istg if u forgot our anniversary
-23:50-
Roommate hoe: is ur phone dead again
-00:00-
Roommate hoe: 1 hour
Roommate hoe: i’m rly fucking mad right now.
Roommate hoe: TAEHYUGN
Roommate hoe: u r dead to me.
[8 miss calls from Roommate hoe]
Taehyung is scared for his life. And then he hears the keys rattle at the front door and his heart drops ten storeys more from the purgatory it had already fallen to. He has never experienced fear like the fear of your wrath, fiery as dragon’s breath and as potent as the venom of a scorpion. He chucks his phone onto his bed, anchored by the charger wire to the wall. And he quietly, cautiously, creeps out from his room.
Okay, you look really fuck hot. In your skin tight leather pants and black mesh top that allows some skin to peak through.
If it wasn’t for the pure rage carved onto your face like you’re some Halloween mask, he would pounce over like a wolf and fuck you on the couch. Except you’re practically breathing out fire through your nose, absolutely seething, arms crossed at the sight of him.
“M-My died phon- My phone died.” He stutters out like a poor kindergarten boy explaining to his teacher that he’d left his homework at home but he promises he did it.
“How. Many. Times. Did. I. Tell. You. To. Pack. Your. Charger. In. Your. Fucking. Bag.” You grit each syllable out so hard that your jaw almost hurts. Gulping, Taehyung watches you shake your heels off and kick them away harder than you need to.
“I’m so so so sorry I forgot, Y/N. I got so carried away at the library, it just completely slipped my mind.” It’s extremely brave of him, you have to say, for him to take those long strides towards you.
“You forgot? We literally were texting about it this afternoon! How the fuck can you forget? It’s our friendship anniversary! We do this ever fucking year!” Taehyung flinches as your volume raises. You almost regret it. But then you remember how fucking cold and embarrassed you were, waiting outside for a whole hour for his dumb ass to show up.
Every year, the two of you like to celebrate the night you had first met at the club. It’s a tradition for you to go to this club together and have a blast of a night, just the two of you, no inviting other friends, no sleeping with anyone else, and then end it with chicken and beer at the local 24hr Korean fried chicken place. It’s tradition!
And because Taehyung just so happen to have coursework due at midnight tonight, he had spent the whole day at the library rushing his project and promised to meet you there. It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind that he would be late; you had had an inkling that he would somehow goof it up and maybe show up 20 minutes past 11 or something. But you didn’t know that he would forget about it entirely.
Fucking ouch.
“Hey, I’m really honestly so tremendously awfully,” he inhales, “extremely terribly immensely appallingly very very sorry. I’m sorry. I fucked up and I have no excuse.”
You stare at him, hand gripping the plastic bag containing something that he doesn’t deserve but you got for him anyway. Fuck the frown lines you’re going to get, you’re gonna frown as much as you fucking can at him. He’s got those wide apologetic puppy eyes, trying to convey his genuine contrite and guilt.
Fuck his stupid puppy eyes.
“Okay. Good night.” You heedlessly toss the bag at him, watching him fumble to catch it in surprise as you walk past him to you room, purposely not making any more eye contact.
To your relief but also annoyance, he’s too busy revealing the contents of the bag to chase after your heel. You don’t slam your door, but you do shut it loud enough to convey how much you’re fuming.
God, you feel like an idiot.
You were just standing there in front of the club, waiting for an hour. So many people you know walked by as well, asking you how come you’re not going in yet. You should have just went in with them.
Taehyung is infuriating sometimes. On good days, he’s cute and ditsy, on bad days, he’s clumsy, incapable, forgetful, careless, unreliable and absent-minded. It really is as if you’re his mother sometimes.
Disgruntled, you flop onto your bed face first, mentally swearing your stupid roommate in six different languages. Then comes the timid knock on the door you were expecting. You ignore it. You hear his muffled throat-clearing, “Y/N… Can I come in?”
You want to ignore him. You want to ignore him so badly. But there’s just something about his boyish innocence that has his claws embedded into you. You sigh, cursing your soft spot for him, and go to open the door.
“Wh-“
You’re silenced when he enshrouds you in his embrace, his honey scent permeating into your mind and making you unable to resist sinking into him. You give yourself credit for being able to not reciprocate the hug. But as he walks you back into your room into your bed, your head buried in his shoulder, his hands clutching your back the way he holds his teddy bear Kimchi when he sleeps, your own arms are itching to circle his neck. The plastic bag dangles from his elbow, swinging at your every step back
With his weight on top of you, you fall onto the mattress. Or more like he forces you to fall onto the mattress, his body propped up over you by his two arms on either side of your face.
“I’m so sorry.”
You refuse to look at him.
“You got me chicken and beer on your way home?” The noisy crinkle of the plastic bag as he takes out the takeaway you had bought for him despite being absolutely livid is vexing.
You should’ve just consumed it all yourself. Why did you even get it for him?
“Yeah, figured you’d forget to eat since you were at the library all day. Plus, unlike some people, I don’t forget our annual friendship traditions.” Grumbling, you fix your eyes on him, determined to coax more guilt from him. Yet instead, it backfires because you feel a warmth in your chest, urging you to forgive him.
“Fuck. Okay, that’s it, you’re definitely my soulmate.” He is cursing at himself in his head, you can tell. As he pushes his hair out of his face in frustration, you want to kiss him stupid. The fuck is wrong with you?
“Ha. Don’t call me your soulmate if you can’t even remember our anniversary.” Puckering your bottom lip out at him, you say. “I’ll kick you in the balls if you don’t get off me.”
Taehyung laughs. It’s a sound that threatens to dissolve your anger, a smile queuing impatiently at your lips. Don’t break. “You wouldn’t. You just went all the way to to get me fried chicken and beer even after I stood you up on our anniversary. You’re secretly so soft, don’t even deny it.”
“Shut it, dickface.” You attempt to roll away from under him but he cages you between his arms. “Look how you take advantage of my kindness towards you. You don’t deserve me.”
“I knowwww I don’t deserve you. I will do all the grovelling for as long as you want me. I’ll do laundry for the rest of the month. I’ll wash the dishes every time. I’ll buy you bubble tea any time you want me to. Pleaseeeee.” Whining, he squeezes your cheeks between his two unholy massive palms and nuzzles into your neck.
Ugh, you’re so sick of him. He’s impossible.
“Firstly, the last time you did laundry, you stained all our white clothes pink.” You yank him by his hair off your neck. “Secondly, I don’t trust you with the dishes because you’ve already broken my favourite mug. And third, no take backs on the bubble tea.”
He smiles at you sheepishly. He knows how incompetent he is, how he is honestly a twenty-something year old toddler. A man child.
When he doesn’t say anything, plainly staring at you with his cheeks risen so high from his smile, you finally give in and giggle.
God, why is your roommate so annoying?
“Haha! Got you! You can’t stay mad at me.” Taehyung shakes you by the head triumphantly like a baby playing, borderline trying to decapitate, his doll.
“Let go! I’m getting whiplash!” The laughter sputters out of you traitorously.
“Let me kiss your pouty lips then.”
You hate that you let him, and you hate how just like that, you’re not mad at your best friend anymore. As he kisses you so softly and apologetically, you melt into him, forgetting how rudely you were cursing him an hour ago.
Later, you two eat the Korean fried chicken and drink the cans of beer on your bed, reminiscing about your early days after initially moving in together, laughing at all those weird awkward encounters.
It’s your friendship anniversary, so you don’t have sex tonight. But ironically you can’t stop kissing as he cuddles you to sleep.
.
05/11/2019
© Copyright 2019
#curly drabbles#heatwave#taehyung#taehyung drabble#taehyung angst#taehyung smut#taehyung fluff#taehyung reactions#bts#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts imagines#taehyung imagines#bts drabbles#taehyung drabbles#namjoon#namjoon smut#seokjin#seokjin smut#yoongi#yoongi smut#hoseok#hoseok smut#jimin#jimin smut#jungkook#jungkook smut
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hello! can i request a scenario where the reader is a manager along w/ yachi and kageyama and tsukki have like the PHATTEST crush on them but what they didnt kno is that yachi and the reader are dating bc they thought they were just Rlly Good Friends and the reader is vv affectionate? and like how would they react once they found out that theyre dating? IDK IF IT MAKES SENSE IM SO SORRY I THOUGHT ABT THIS AT 3AM HSKDJDD ANYWAYS THANK UU AND IM SORRY AGAIN
OKAY I HAD SO MANY PENDING REQUESTS AND UNFINISHED DRAFTS BUT THIS THIS IS TOO GOOD TO PROCRASTINATE ON ABHAHAH-
And DON’T BE SORRY BEBY, 3am is when our inner Voltaire shows.
Btw if you wanna be tagged in this scenario just comment or pm me!!
You guys seem to be very good friends//Kageyama x Reader x Tsukishima
Word count: 1900+
Warnings: mild swearing
Summary: Tsukishima and Kageyama decide to ask their crush out, not knowing about her own relationship status.
“You’re not asking her out, I am. She said she likes darker hair more when I asked her last week.”
“Back off you Oompa Loompa, she’s gonna be mine by the end of the month. You’re too dumb for her anyways.”
“No way in hell would she want your salty ass.”
“You wanna say that again to my face you little bitch-”
“Hey guys.”
The two boys jumped up in surprise, blushing wildly at your unexpected arrival to the gym.
It’s been about two months since THE incident. You know, the time when the volleyball team decided to play truth or dare at Daichi’s, and both Tsukishima and Kageyama were dared to text their crushes “You are less shitty than everyone else, just saying.” It wasn’t until (Y/N) called Kageyama asking why both him and Tsukishima sent her such a weird text, did the two members of the team find out that they shared a crush with their archenemy. From that day on, the two have been trying even harder to irritate and taunt each other during practice. The both of them were determined to beat the other at confessing their feelings and taking her out. This day was no exception.
“O-oh hi (Y/N), what brings you here? It’s like 7, practice just ended.” Tsukishima questioned, awkwardly scratching his head as he tried his best not to sound like a stuttering idiot.
“Yeah, it’s late, uh- you shou-should ho gome- I MEAN GO HOME.” The blond smirked as the raven haired setter completely stumbled over his own words, slapping a hand to his mouth while his face continued to burn crimson.
The tiny girl in front of them gave the two that godforsaken amazing adorable heart melting smile, chuckling angelically, before explaining. “Ah, I’m actually here to pick Yachi up, she told me she was staying behind to help clean the gym out because I had plans after school. I promised her I would pick her up at 7, would you happen to know where she is?” The two boys looked at each other, before racing to the storage closet, competing to be the one that brings the blond manager to the girl of their dreams. “You could’ve just told me where she was, but okay! Thanks!” (Y/N) yelled after them.
“Jesus Christ you tyrant king, how’d you get here quicker?” Kageyama smugly grinned at Tsukishima as he approached Yachi. “Yachi, (Y/N)’s outside, she said she was picking you up.” The blonde manager’s face lit up, dropping the last volleyball into the basket. “Oh! Oh shit, I have to go now guys, see you!” Kageyama followed Yachi out of the storage closet, purposely shoving Tsukishima back with his shoulder on the way out, earning a scowl. “I got Yachi, you two head home now, stay safe!” “Thank you so much Kageyama, you two stay safe when you leave too!” The shorter manager waved the two boys off, lacing her fingers with Yachi’s as they walked out of the gym. “Tch, let’s see who gets her now shitty glasses. I helped her when she needed it.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, letting out his shit eating smirk as he snickered. “Mhm, ho gome, very good grammar you got there. The only somewhat smart thing you’ve done is get her best friend. Sis probably still thinks you’re stupid.” Kageyama went silent for a moment, before lashing out at the middle blocker, grabbing his collar and shaking him violently. “Oi, we never speak of that again! Ever!” “Whatever you say baby dick. I’m still gonna ask her out to the festival, you’re not gonna stop me.” Tsukishima gave Kageyama a sneer, before packing his stuff and leaving the gym without turning anything off, just to piss Kageyama off. “Annoying ass shittyshima.”
Throughout the next week, the two boys have tried relentlessly to grab (Y/N)’s attention. From secret love notes, to chocolates in her locker, to a full blown necklace. To say she was intrigued, but unbothered, would be pretty much accurate. “Hm? (Y/N)? Another love note? Who could it be? They’re getting on my nerves....” The shorter manager waved her hands, stuffing the letter back into her locker as she tried to explain to the blonde. “I don’t know who it is, but this is the third day in a row, and there’s chocolates too.” Yachi huffed out, before wrapping an arm around her. “Those scrawny ass boys better not be hitting on you!” (Y/N) chuckled a little bit, before tapping Yachi’s nose. “Even if they were, it wouldn’t matter to me.” The two of them continued to walk down the hallways, gaining occasional stares and glances along the way as they chatted.
Kageyama and Tsukishima watched from their lockers, anticipating her reaction to their love notes and chocolates. “Not even a glance?” “It’s been three days, she’s ought to be the slightest bit curious, no?” They watched as you frantically shoved the letter back into your locker as Yachi stood with her hands on her hips. The blonde then proceeded to wrap an arm around you as you tapped her nose. “Hm, they sure are close aren’t they? (Y/N)’s constantly looking for Yachi, and she always comes and picks her up if she stays until late. They’re so comfortable with each other that they even hold hands.” Tsukishima analysed, pushing his glasses up as he glanced at Kageyama, who was still completely confused with what had just happened. “How are we supposed to get through Yachi? She seems to never approve of anyone that dares confess to (Y/N). You remember Hiroyama from a few months back? He tried confessing, and ended up getting scared away by Yachi. He looked like he was about to piss his pants. He wouldn’t get anywhere near (Y/N) for weeks. I don’t wanna end up like him.” The blue haired setter recalled, slightly nervous about his plan to confess. “You know what? Screw it. I’m gonna go ask her out now.” Tsukishima jogged towards you and Yachi, Kageyama trailing closely behind him. “LIKE HELL ARE YOU ASKING HER OUT BEFORE ME SHITTY GLASSES!”
“Me? You’re asking me?” Tsukishima was now blushing furiously. “I- I just- ye- tch, yeah, I-I’m asking if yo-you wanna b-be my date for the s-summer festival.” Kageyama’s face fell. Oh god no, Tsukishima’s attempt better fail, or I won’t have a chance at all. “Oi, Tsukishima, back off. She’s not going to go with you.” Tsukishima gave his iconic sarcastic smile. “Yachi, maybe you should just let me ask your best friend out? I’ve been pondering over it for weeks, and I’m not about to let this opportunity slip. Maybe you should stop scaring guys away when they confess to her, that way she’ll actually have some form of freedom.” He slightly snarled, cheeks still completely red. Kageyama approached the three. “So, Shittyshima, you got rejected and now you’re salty about it? Told you she doesn’t want you, she’d be much better off going to the festival with me.” “Wha-” “Oh yeah Kageyama? Go back and coddle with Hinata first-” “OI YOU LITTLE BITCH WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME-” “Guys stop.” The two boys stopped their bantering instantly, now embarrassed and flustered. “I’m not going with either of you. I’m going with Yachi.” The blond middle blocker scoffed. “Well you guys seem to be very good friends indeed. Deadass the whole point of the festival is that it’s for people that want to ask someone out, at this point you two should just get married. Plus, Yachi literally scares away anyone that tries to ask you out, maybe she should stop controlling who you’re together with?” Yachi gave (Y/N) a weird look, before they both burst out laughing like madmen.
“AHDHHDHAHAHAAH YOU REALLY THOUGHT I SCARED THOSE PEOPLE AWAY BECAUSE I DIDN’T APPROVE OF THEM?”
Kageyama raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah. What could it possibly be anyways?”
The two girls continued to cackle.
“TSUKISHIMA, KAGEYAMA, THE ONLY REASON WHY I WON’T GO OUT WITH ANYONE, AND WHY YACHI DOESN’T LET PEOPLE CONFESS TO ME, IS BECAUSE WE’RE DATING!”
What in the name of hell?
“YOU WHAT?” The two boys screamed, eyes now wide with shock.
“Yeah, we’re dating, now back off. You may be my friends, but if you do anything to my dear (Y/N) I won’t hesitate to make you piss your pants!” Yachi puffed out her cheeks, putting her hands on her hips. They continued to stare at them in shock, trying to take in all this new information. “(Y/N), you never told me that you were- that you were lesbian?” (Y/N) laughed heartily at Tsukishima’s question, taking a deep breath, before continuing to cackle. “I’m not lesbian, I’m bisexual, but Yachi’s lesbian. We’ve been dating for an entire year by now! How have you two not noticed at all? Everyone in the volleyball team knows!” The two boys looked to the ground out of embarrassment. “O-oh, I take back all the love letters I gave you, I-I didn’t know.” Kageyama mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. “Ye-yeah same, but you can keep the chocolates.” Tsukishima twirled his earphone jack around his finger in an attempt to calm himself down. “We’ll be going now, see you two later!” The manager yelled, waving them off. “What the hell just happened?” Kageyama whispered. “I think we just got rejected-” “YEAH NO SHIT WE GOT REJECTED SHITTY GLASSES.”
“HINATA!” “Yeah Kageyama-” “WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL ME (Y/N) AND YACHI WERE DATING?” The spiker went silent, before snickering to himself. “So you finally found out.” Kageyama zoomed towards the orange haired boy. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE DUMBASS!” “AHAHHA I’M SORRY BAKAGEYAMA! YOU WERE JUST WAY TOO DENSE, I HAD TO SEE WHETHER YOU WOULD FIND OUT EVENTUALLY OR NOT!” “YOU LITTLE SHIT, WHAT THE HELL KIND OF THOUGHT PROCESS IS THAT? I TALKED ABOUT CONFESSING SO MANY TIMES AND YOU NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT INFORMING ME OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP?”
“Yamaguchi.” “Hm, Tsukki, what’s up?” Tsukishima’s face darkened. “Why didn’t you tell me (Y/N) was taken?” Yamaguchi shrunk away from the blond’s tall figure. “I thou-thought you knew already? It was super obvious!” The taller boy sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I made a complete fool of myself because I didn’t know she was dating Yachi.” Yamaguchi’s mouth hung open. “Don’t tell me-” “Yes, I tried to ask her out.” “TSUKKI I’VE ALREADY TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT!” “YEAH WELL YOU REALLY THOUGHT I WOULD LISTEN TO SOMEONE THAT TOLD ME NOT TO ASK MY CRUSH OUT WITH NO APPARENT REASON?”
From afar, the two girls observed amusedly. “Hm, I wonder how Hinata’s gonna die? He was the first one to find out about us.” Kageyama was still chasing Hinata around wildly, trying to grab at his club tee. “I honestly wonder what Tsukishima’s gonna do to Yamaguchi. Poor guy. Tsukishima had his headphones on as he went through his phone, his ears still red from bringing up the issue. Yamaguchi was next to him, trying to calm him down, but to no avail. “Ahh, out of everyone, I least expected these two to not realise early on. I thought Tsukishima was good at reading people.” You stated to Yachi, laughing a bit. “I know right? I swear, that was hilarious. Did you see his face? Mans looked like that strawberry on that cake he had for lunch this afternoon! God, I would literally pay to see that face again.”
I guess the two boys now know not to hit on (Y/N) ever again.
Yesss I love this request so much oh my god thank you-
#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenario#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu tsukki#haikyuu kageyama#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu hinata#haikyuu yamaguchi#haikyuu yachi#hq#hq x reader#hq headcanons#hq scenarios#hq scenario#hq tsukki#hq kageyama#hq hinata#hq yachi#hq yamaguchi#tsukishima kei#kageyama tobio#hinata shouyou#yamaguchi tadashi#yachi hitoka#anime#crackfic#karasuno#tsukishima x reader#kageyama x reader
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Review for Trish’s Dream Fic
Trish ( @couragedontdesertme ) said she’d write an epilogue of the elsarik dream Fic if I made a Formal Review of the elsarik dream fic. So here we are.
Please note review should be taken VERY LIGHTLY this is more or less me re-reading the Fic and loudly yelling about things with too many exclamation points. Enjoy Trish.
Ch1
First of all imagine my fucking surprise I didn’t even know you had gotten work done on the dream fic???? Here I was thinking the link you sent me was the next chapter of city of ice and then I click on it and it saYS DREAM FIC???? E X C U S E M E oh my goodness
The first section is just so entirely domestic and beautiful and you can tell how lived in and content they are in their life as roommates. ALARIK (listen my phone autocorrects ALARIK to be in all caps and I’m too lazy to fix it so y’all are gonna have to deal with reading ALARIK’s name as if I’m yelling it every time I type it) anyway ALARIK just bringing her the chocolate croissants she loves so dearly and Elsa curling up with a book and him fretting and worrying over her being there alone all day and later... it’s just SO DOMESTIC. it’s such a small short moment but it’s so domestic and a perfect opposite of the PAIN THAT HAPPENS AFTER!!! And we al know I LOVE READING PAIN
The fact that ALARIK was only home late because he was doing tutoring to earn more money to by Elsa A PRESENT????? Shut up no one speak to me that’s true love but also PAINFUL the guilt he must feel oh my god
Elsa...stops struggling... because she doesn’t want ,,,, ALARIK ,,,, to get hurt. Because she cares for his safety more than her own because he has protected her and he is her friend and she loves him I am going to SCREAM
The fact that you use the phrase ~marching her out of the warmth of the room~ when she just used her magic to like cover the walls in frost makes my Heart burst cause idk if it was intentional or not but I just love the thought that this room has become Home to her it’s become safe and beautiful and lovely and WARM because it is full of love and friendship and companionship rather than the cold loneliness of say her ice palace of her locked room as a child. I like to think Elsa could have covered the room entirely in ice and snow and frost and it would still feel warm to her because of the love that’s developed there thank you for coming to my tedtalk
Ugh fuck hans
I have literally no words other than fuck hans for any section with hans in it I DONT even want to RECOGNIZE THAT HE EXISTS !!! Making Elsa feel like she’s nothing I am going to punch him in the eye
~ALARIK weeps over smushed chocolate croissant. End scene~
I know that it’s such a heartbreaking sad ending for that first chapter but also I really can’t stop laughing about him crying over a stepped on croissant since I know that your like planning note for that last scene was literally just some variant of ALARIK cried over a smushed croissant and that’s just such a funny IMAGE TO ME EVEN THOUGH ITS SAD
I just like to imagine ALARIK cradling the chocolate croissant in his arms like a bébé as he sobs
Ch2
I’m fucking S A D
ALARIK having like NO MONEY and just thinking about that the money he has was going to go to a gift for Elsa and the guard LAUGHING AT HIM LIKE THATS IT THATS ALL YOU HAVE?? Like shut UP HES TRYING TO SAVE HIS BELOVED
P e t t y c h a n g e HE IS TRYING MR GUARD I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW HE WORKED EXTRA TO GET THAT MONEY
ALARIK is so fucking DEVOTED I’m going to run through a goddamn wall I cannot cope. Willing to sell the clothes off his back have you ever seen an idiot more iN LOVE
ALARIK just going willingly cause he has no fight left in him and he just wants to see Elsa even if it means he gets imprisoned too oh my GOD
THE SCENE ITS THE SCENE!!!!!!!!!
STRAIGHT FROM TRISH’S SUBCONSCIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAT STARTED IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!
ALARIK wanting to hold her hands when her hands are what are chained up and seen as dangerous and what ~make her a witch~ the absolute love and power that holds.
LET ALARIK AND ELSA HOLD HANDS
“I promised to keep you safe” the pain I feel oh mY GOD
“They’ll KILL you” they’re really out here trying to protect each other at all costs oh my god nothing matters more to the other than keeping the other safe and for that I want to cry and love them and also I want to ram their heads into the wall because wHY WONT THEY JUST PROTECT ESCH OTHER TOGETHER
The PARALLEL OH MY FUCKING GOD
the P A R A L L E L of ALARIK stilling and no longer struggling when the guards threaten Elsa’s death in the same way that Elsa stilled and stopped struggling when they threatened ALARIK’s death oh my god that broke me right there
U g h hans fuck that guy
A N N A !!!!!!!!
When I first read this,,, I DONT know why??? But for some reason??? I didn’t think Anna would be in it???? Which like thinking back on that it makes no sense of COURSE Anna would be in the FIC why would I ever think otherwise. But anyway I was so surprised when she showed up I literally gasped and went ANNA??? Out loud because I was so shocked
ALFAFA GERANIUM
ALARIK really is just so bad under pressure who thought this was a good idea
AG FOR SHORT wink wink nudge nudge cough cough
I’ll be thinking about ALARIK shouting alfafa geranium on my death bed let us never forget
“No harm, no foul” is literally the most fucking Anna line I’ve ever heard. She absolutely would say that to someone who was being question for a crime she’d be like “it’s not biggy”
Why is it that when hans says “BUT ANNA!!!” I hear it like he’s wining like a petulant child I read it like “bUT annNNAAAAA” ugh I hate him
“Don’t scream” *ALARIK’s inner monologue* “this ,, is the story of how I died”
ILL HELP YOU HELP HER ESCAPE!!!!! HELL YEA YOU WILL ANNA HELL YEA YOU WILL
Ch3
My dumbass really went “why are none of the children named neta” before remembering that is the child of Anna and Kristoff and these...are the children of Anna ,,, and .... ugh please don’t make me say his name
I would die for these kids though I love them and I want to protect them at all costs 
Johannes at 5 (and a half!!!!) being a fine soldier GOOD FOR HIM
Isak owns my entire heart from the moment he started fake crying for his mother what a star performer a true Actor he’s too good
Arendellian Royal Guards, are they guards? Or are they simply baby sitters? The world may never know
JOAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One of the babies being named JOAN!!! Hang in there Joan!!!!!!!!! That made me cry oh my god J O A N
Bébé Isak lookout supreme with his big eyeballs and smile and goofy lil salute I love him
The fact that Elsa says she felt stupid for being lured into a false sense of security means she felt secure and safe for literally the first time since she was a child when she was with ALARIK and I cannot properly articulate how much that made me cry I love that so much that has to mean sO MUCH TO HER oh my god
“You have to get out!! Do the magic!!” NO ONE SPEAK TO ME ABOUT ANYTHING EXCEPT THIS LINE FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL MONTHS I LITERALLY WEPT
the use of DO THE MAGIC oh my god AND ELSAS HEART LIKE BREAKING BECAUSE SHE FEELS LIKE SHE CANT
DO ! THE ! MAGIC !
Brave little boy with his mother’s determination saying “be brave. That’s what mama said to tell you” oh my GOD THESE CHILDREN HAVE MY WHOLE HEART OH MY GOD
A rooster crow for the signal COUKD they be more obvious I love these kids they’re ridiculous they are truly the children of Anna
Elsa!!! Chose!! To be!!! Brave!!!
IF SHE TRIED TO SAY GOODBYE TO ELSA!!! SHE MAY NEVER LET GO!!!
SHE HAD NO WHERE TO GO!!! BUT SHE DOES BEVAUSE THERES ALARIK WAITING FOR HER BECAUSE GUESS WHAT
ALARIK IS HER HOME !!!!! HE IS HER HOME !!!! SHE CAN GO TO HIM!!!!
Queue another one of my shocked and delightfully surprised screams as I shouted KRISTOFF????? Because blonde dude driving a reindeer cart
Let’s get you somewhere safe I’m going to cry THEYRE finally together again and they can keep each other safe together as. They. Should.
They are cuddling and my heart is exploding oh my god ALARIK seems so surprised like you big dumb idiot you’re both in love with each other it’s a mutual thing get with the program
SLEEP ELSA! ITS GOING TO BE OKAY! AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN PROBABLY FOREVER! IT WILL BE!
Ch4
*queue another gasp* there’s only one bed?????
Yea I saw it coming yea I was just as shocked even so yea I got very excited about it wHAT DID YOU EXPECT
They’re cUDDLING and he went to move away and she DOESNT WANT HIM TO they could’ve been sharing a bed THIS WHOLE TIME AND I JUST WANT TO SCREAM BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY
ALARIK laying all the credit on kristoff and the kids when he’s kind of the one that steamrolled the whole plan into happening because he’s the one who showed up ALARIK please give yourself more credit
“You came back” “of course I came back... I couldnt ...” “why?” And then ALARIK refusing to meet her eyes has me absolutely weeping this is the kind of shit I THRIVE ON this is truly a gift to us all everyone say thank you Trish for these three bits of dialogue I will be thinking about them for all my days
ELSA KISSED HIM!!!!!!!!!
Yeah I do lose my shit anytime Elsa is the one to make the first move you go girl you go
THE SPICE VENDOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bringing in all my favorites I am going to cry thank you Trish I love Darius
I SUPPOSE YOU TWO HAVE FINALLY GOTTEN MARRIED
listen I SCREAMED WHEN HE SAID THAT I SQUAWKED!!!! MARRIED!!!!!!
I had been observing you two and just assumed!!!!! You would assume right mr spice vendor sir if they WERENT so stupid for so long it’s okay we understand
WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE ??? And Elsa says MARRY US? And ALARIK is going to PASS THE FUCK OUT
He literally got to finally kiss the woman he’s in love with for the first time last night and now they’re getting married poor boy is going to get WHIPLASH from how fast things are progressing but it’s okay im sure he is happy
Elsa’s little vows of just needing each other and keeping each other safe and keeping company and not needing gold or silver ugh TRUE LOVE
And ALARIK hopelessly devoted to her being like I PROMISE
“just you being there no matter what is enough” peak romance true love the devotion the dedication I’m a wreck
LE SMOOCH! LE MARRIAGE! INCREDIBLE I LOVE THEM
~end review~
Okay where is my epilogue please and thank you
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