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hotwings0203 · 3 years

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Guys I’m having another Bakugo brainrot

Tw: bullying, noncon, nonconsensual peeping, manipulation

Remember that one episode of MHA where the class goes to the sauna and M*neta tries to check da girls out over the wall?

Imagine the same scenario, but years later when they’re all older

The class wanted a reunion, just to relax and blow off some steam

You’re with the girls, and you all lay back in the hot water reminiscing about the older days when everyone was still getting the hang of their own quirks

Mina brings up this exact same scene but years ago.

“Ohmigosh, do you guys remember the last time we came in our first year here and Mineta totally tried to get a peek at us?”

“Ugh, I hope Iida is keeping a good hold on him right now,” Ochacko giggles, kicking her feet up to rest on a rock

You hum in agreement, tilting your head back to rest against the wooden wall separating you and the boys.

As it was, Uraraka was almost spot on with her hopes. Except, Iida and Tokoyami were out getting refreshments for the rest of the boys, leaving the remaining group to their own plot.

Which was lead by Mineta, of course, who had the brilliant idea to spy on the girls, just like they almost did years back.

“Guys, come on, please they’re right there!” He practically salivates, wildly gesturing to the tall wooden wall in front of them.

Most of them shift uncomfortably and groan about him being a creep as usual, but the rest stay silent.

Mineta takes their lack of outright refusal as fuel to keep blabbering.

“Look, we almost got away with it back then-“

“-You mean you got away with it, we didn’t do shit. And you didn’t exactly get off scot-free, Kota completely demolished your attempts and you landed ass down on Four-Eyes’ face,” Bakugo drawls, leaning his head backwards and looking up at the obsidian sky. The boys laugh, remembering the ridiculous event.

The night is cool, the stars littering the inky atmosphere take the pressure off of Bakugo’s lungs. For weeks now they’ve been training like dogs, battling each other and even minor villains for extra practice of their quirks. This trip was supposed to be a leisure getaway, not a free porno.

But the grape-headed perv is insistent, scoffing and waving the blond’s quip off like some annoying fly.

“You know, there’s something in it for you too, Bakugo. I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N.”

This causes a murmur and a couple of light beers towards the blond, who in turn snarls and ignites his hand to quell the commotion. All of them had an inkling that Katsuki Bakugo had finally set his sights on some poor girl, and that was you. It was such a rare sight to see his face flush slightly when you walked past him, the way he stuttered over his words a bit when you two would be conversing amongst the same group, and best of all, when they would see how he would excuse himself to the bathroom or locker room occasionally when your hero suit would tear in certain places after battles.

“Shut the fuck up 3’2, unlike you I don’t need to ogle at those brain dead bimbos.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you thought of Y/N as a ‘brain dead bimbo’, Bakugo, I’ll be sure to let her know how you feel” Mineta grinned maliciously, and the boys ‘oooo’ed at the jab.

Bakugo’s voice caught in his throat.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, rising slightly out of the water.

“I already know you’ll kill me afterwards, but I’m prepared for the repercussions if you don’t help...cooperate here,” Grapehead inspected a cuticle and feigned a yawn.

“Come on Bakugo, it’s not like it’s gonna hurt anyone! Well keep this to ourselves,” Denki chimed in a little too eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re only asking for your and everyone’s support so that we can focus better on training y’know? A little fun never killed anyone.” Sero threw his arm over Kirishima’s shoulder, who blushed at the whole ordeal but kept silent all the while.

Katsuki looked around. Slowly, others were starting to really listen in and look interested at the outcome of Mineta’s plan. Surely a little peeping wouldn’t be too bad would it? And plus, it was only a one time thing.

Shoto was faring the same way as Kirishima, quiet and maybe embarrassed at what they were planning on doing, but no outright refusal. Even Deku had a weird longing glint in his eye, the same kind he would get when he used to fawn over All Might.

He thought about it for a minute more, a chance to see you, naked, honest, and pure, splashing around with your friends as you let your femininity dangle as it pleased.

“Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not taking blame if the bird and glasses come back, though.”

Hushed cheers and excited murmurs erupt from around the spring, and they huddle together to form a plan.

A couple minutes later, the boys were grouping around the wooden panels. Todoroki had burned a hole into the soft wood, and sero had used his transparent tape to cover it up so that the girls couldn’t see it from their side.

And there they were, completely bare, hair flowing, curves showing, voices mature and high pitched giggles emanating from around the water and bank.

Bakugo seeks you out immediately after the hole is made, shoving his way through the crowded bodies much to the amusement of others. But he doesn’t care, all he wants at the moment is to see you in your most honest element.

He doesn’t have to look long, because you’re right there, you’re right in front of them, only a few meters away. Your back is facing them, but the sight of your smooth, naked back and the round curve of your ass squishing against the rocks underneath you is enough to make Bakugo’s cock bob painfully above the water. It’s not too hard to hide his erection since the boys’s attention is elsewhere at the moment.

Your hair is open, and he wants nothing more than to feel it in his hands, run his fingers though your scalp and pull so hard that your neck is snapped back, he wants to know what kind of noises you’ll make for him, would you sound shrill and high pitched or would you wail and bellow for him to let go?

They can hear the girls talking amongst themselves, the hole in the wall makes their voices more audible and clear.

“Quit playing coy, Jirou, we know you’ve got your eye on someone,” Hagakure’s body is nowhere to be found as usual, but her chipper voice rings out from the middle of the hot spring.

Jirou is a few feet away from where you sit, her body also being shown for everyone to see. Bakugo glances at Kaminari to confirm his suspicion, but gags and quickly looks away when he gets an eyeful of his friends’ erect cock.

Not that Bakugo himself has room to talk, though.

“I mean, not really, it’s not a big deal.” The ravenette shifts and hides her head from the rest of girls’ cooing.

“Uh huh, sure. You’re not fooling anyone Kiyoka, I’ve seen the way you look at Denki. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other, it’s cute,” you purr, and Bakugo holds himself back from shoving the other guys out of the way just so that he can hear your voice the best.

Squeals and sounds of splashing fill the air, and Sero and Kirishima whisper excitedly and clap their red-faced friend on the back. Denki can’t keep the 50K watt smile off his face, and even Bakugo grunts and knocks shoulders with him, letting him know that he was happy for the human charger.

But then Jirou claps back with her own snarky observation, and the boys fall hush at the new revelation.

“Alright, you wanna talk about ogling Y/N? Then tell me, how’s Deku doing?”

“Or Bakugo, too,” Mina adds slyly, and now all the girls’ attention, as well as the boys’, is on you.

Bakugo felt like he had whiplash. He would’ve been elated, on Cloud 9 even to hear that maybe you had something for him too, had shitty Deku’s name not have been thrown in there too.

And he looks around wildly for the green haired freak, the freckles dusted across the expanse of his face even more prominent from the deep blush quickly forming, his scarred hands holding the sides of his face shaking in awe and gleeful shock.

But the rest of the boys aren’t as oblivious to how Bakugo seethes at his rival’s joy, from the way the water gets hotter from his quirk sparking underneath the rippling waves. Kirishima scoots closer to his friend and gently lays a hand on his shoulder as if to say, calm down, man. Not right now.

And so the hothead leaves it for the time being, opting to hear your response.

“I-it’s really nothing, they’re both just good classmates like the rest of the guys,” and although your back is turned to them, it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re embarrassed too, your leg skittishly bouncing in front of you is making your ass jiggle from the back, much to the delight of the salivating boys.

Bakugo wants to spill blood when he suddenly realizes your body is being shown for the rest of these dogs to see

The girls start teasing you, your splutters being drowned out by their playful accusations.

“Come on L/N, whose cuter?”

“Dont act all coy now, I know how nervous you get when you’re all close to Bakugo. I mean I don’t blame you, have you seen his muscles? He could crush someone’s head with those things!”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she giggles when Deku starts his mumbling tangents? That’s a classic crush right there.”

Bakugo is getting desperate to hear your answer now, some of the boys have left, feeling like they had their full of excitement for the night. They saw some tits and ass, heard some gossip, end of story.

The only ones remaining were Bakugo and his gang, as well as IcyHot and Shitty Deku.

Shitty Deku, who seemed equally eager to hear your response.

It pissed him off that he wasn’t getting the message to fuck off, even after all the growling and death stares he was receiving from his childhood friend.

But he guesses after a lifetime of dealing with it, it doesn’t scare Deku as much as it does anymore.

Maybe he’ll have to amp it up, later

“W-well I mean both of them have their own respective...flaws and strengths I guess..sometimes Deku can be kinda hard to talk to ‘cuz he’s so shy, but Bakugo can be a real jerk at times, too.”

You trail off, and Bakugo scoffs to himself. Him? Flaws? Those two words didn’t go well in one sentence together, but nonetheless he continues to listen. He wouldn’t refute the notion of him being an asshole, he wasnt that delusional.

“And yeah, I mean Bakugo definitely intimidates me sometimes with how aggressive he can be, but Deku is definitely getting up there in terms of physical prowess. But in terms of who I like, I’d have to say-“

“Midoriya! Bakugo! What are you two doing over there?”

Iidas voice booms across the water, and all 6 of the boys jump back, startled at the intrusion.

“No, wait-“ Bakugo hisses, clawing his way towards the hole to hear the rest of what you had to say, but Sero and Todoroki shove him back and patch the hole up with fire and tape, shutting off your confession.

Deku waves his arms around wildly, stammering some excuse of dropping his towel in the spot where they all were sheepishly gathered. They eventually waded their way over to where Tokoyami had set the drinks down, but the blond was shaking with hot rage despite the cool refreshment that was shoved into his hand by a wary Kirishima.

“Don’t sweat it dude, it’s not like her and Midoriya are gonna da-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll blast both your and his head off,” he glowers at the redhead, shorting a dark look to where an all-too-happy Deku was chatting with Todoroki, as if they hadn’t been drooling over their naked classmates merely a couple minutes ago.

Kirishima backs off with raised hands in surrender, leaving Katsuki to mull over the situation by himself.

You couldn’t seriously be interested in that green haired freak, right? I mean he could barely talk to a girl without tripping over his own damn tongue, for fucks sake.

Not that he was any better himself. He failed to acknowledge the times where you had merely asked him for an extra pencil, when he snapped at you for being such a fuckin’ dumbass that you couldn’t even remember to bring your own shit. He had done that out of pure impulse, but he regretted it the moment he saw your face fall, his heart clenching at the sight

He’d have to show you that he was the better option, regardless of if you wanted it or not.

And so when they had all gotten out of the water and gotten ready for food, Bakugo already knew what he had to do.

You were all eating outside in the camp pavilion, each at their own separate tables. He was sitting with the boys, all of them joking around and throwing food at each other while he was staring you down.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. How could you expect him to, after he had seen half of you bare already? It was sinful almost, the way you were completely in the dark about what he had seen and heard, while he himself was fantasizing about what you looked like and felt like on the front.

So when Deku came by your table, no doubt also having the same conversation of the springs in mind, wanting to get closer to you, Bakugo felt his sanity snap.

The fork he held in his hand started melting in his ignited hand, steam curling from his palm. He watched as the green-eyed fuck made successful shitty attempts to make you laugh, his eyes trained on where you gently laid a hand on his shoulder after something he said that made you throw your head back and howl with glee.

“Hey man, your fork-!” Kaminari yelped, pointing at the disfigured mess of metal in his friend’s steaming hand.

“Huh?” Bakugo was pulled out of his irate daze, and he quickly dropped the fork when he saw what he unconsciously did.

They all looked at him for an uneasy minute after noticing the expression on his face, no doubt understanding he was furious about being compared to Deku once again in front of you.

“Look, Bakugo, don’t really take what Y/N said to heart. We don’t know who she actually likes, and Midoriya’s just her friend...” but Sero trails off hesitantly after glancing in your direction, seeing Deku’s dreamy expression as your hand still continues to rest on his shoulder.

“Just let her come to you, yeah? You don’t wanna force anything on her, that’ll make her really uncomfortable-“

-“Shut the fuck up Shitty Hair, and mind your own damn business,” Bakugo interjects, abruptly unscrewing his drink and standing up, unable to lose you to some broccoli- headed bug-eyed fuck.

He stiffly walks across the pavilion to where you two sit, and feigns a swig from his bottle. Your focus is still on Deku, so you don’t notice him approach until he comes up behind you two and ‘trip’s, falling forward and strategically spilling the liquid all over Deku’s back and your front.

You squeal as your blouse is drenched, and Deku shoots up from his seat to grab some napkins while searching for the perpetrator.

“What the- Kacchan?”

“Oops.”

Bewildered, you look at the two while dabbing the wet splotches on your shirt, Mina and Tsu jumping into action to help you.

The boys exchange a weird look, and although Bakugo gave his version of an apology, he doesn’t look very sorry. In fact, if you saw it right he looked almost...smug? With a bit of anger?

Deku wasn’t any easier to understand either. His voice was lilted as usual while he grabbed napkins, but his gaze never left his childhood friends’ and his eyes weren’t exactly the big doe-eyes you had grown fond of.

They were darkened, and narrowed as they bored into Bakugo’s eyes. Neither one of them was looking away from each other, and there was a weird tension in the air that everyone could sense.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, you had to go and wash up.

“I gotta change and maybe take a shower, I can feel it sticking to my skin,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and tell Mina as you stand to leave. Deku offers to walk you, but you wave him off kindly.

As you pass by Bakugo, you can feel his eyes rove up and down your body, very obviously staring at the way your white shirt clings to your chest from the liquid, sending chills up your spine.

But he doesn’t come after you, not yet.

It’s only after everyone has finished up from their dinner and headed off to bed almost 20 minutes later that the showers finally, finally warm up enough for you to dip a hesitant toe in.

Curse the old pipes.

*******

He watches you from the dark, the only light you’re provided with is the dim emergency light from the rusty bulb, the camp counselors having been shut the facility’s lights off merely a half hour ago. But you were stubborn in waiting for the water to warm up so you were left alone in the showers, shifting uncomfortably in your sticky wet clothes.

And then miraculously you get up for the umpteenth time to check the temperature of the water, and it’s finally deemed appropriate for you when you sigh in relief and start taking your shoes off.

He hides in the door partition, his cock hardening slowly as he thinks of you alone with just him and his mercy. You were going to pay for almost breaking his heart and prancing around with stupid fucking Deku instead.

But asides from his rage, he still liked you, a lot. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you, so he decided to try and attempt to make your first time with him as gentle and as special as he could in the dirty cabin showers.

Bakugo waits with bated breath for the right moment, and the second your hands grip the end of your shirt to pull it up, he slowly emerges from the dark.

“You know, I’m glad you came here alone, at night. It’s almost like you wanted this.”

You jump violently at the low voice coming from seemingly nowhere, and you wildly look around for the source until you see him...coming at you slow from the inky abyss of the room, like a predator stalking his prey.

His figure seems to loom even larger than he actually is, the shadows of his tall body bouncing off the walls and grazing over the top of your head. He seems to be in no rush, taking his time with his hands in his pockets, eyes flashing dangerously at you as he stalks forward until he’s backed you up against the deteriorating wall, chest to chest with you.

“W-what the hell, Bakugo,” you stammer nervously. “This is the girls room, you can’t be here-“

And the hand you raise to push him away is caught in his calloused ones, your other wrist is quickly seized as well and slammed above your head. You cry out in pain and try kicking out, but he wedges a bulky knee in between your thigh and shoves his face mere millimeters away from yours, a mean leer adorning his normally-attractive face.

“What, I can’t be here? And here I was thinking that you almost liked me. But oh, I forgot, Deku’s your favorite, right?” The grip on your wrist tigthens and his leg flexes from in between your thighs.

You squirm and sob, about to ask what the hell he was talking about-

Oh.

Oh no.

He sees the understanding pass over your face, and he laughs cruelly at the horror that comes with it.

“You heard me? How?”

“Not just heard. I saw you, too.”

He lets his eyes drop from your neck, to your chest, and then to the juncture between your legs which was being massaged by his knee.

Tears well up in your eyes as you realize he was watching you this entire evening in the springs. How he got away with it, you didn’t want to even know.

“I saw your hair open for the first time, and not in that stupid hairdo you always do for school.”

He trails his hand softly up the sides of your body and up your neck until he reaches his big hand into your scalp. You whimper and gasp as he laces his fingers through your locks, seeming to caress you but then harshly yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look at him head on.

“I saw your ass pressed up against the rocks, and I wished it was up against my cock instead.”

He removes his hand from your hair and snakes it down to your bottom, kneading and slapping it lightly. You writhe even harder now, too scared to make a noise in case he hurts you even worse, just wanting him to get the hell off of you.

“But I didn’t see the front of you. I imagined what you would look like with tears streaming down your face while I was stuffing you full of me”

He plays with the edge of your shirt, a dark look in his eye as he plays with you. You try to budge your hands but to now avail, only serving in annoying him and shoving his knee up further into your crotch. The pressure on your clit is immense, and your legs start shaking as you’re forced to be suspended almost midair on his knee.

“Take this off,” he says softly, the rasp catching in his voice.

“Bakugo, please. You don’t have to do this, I swear I won’t tell anyone-“

“You think I’m worried about if you’ll tell anyone? Hah! I already know you won’t, wanna know why?”

He leans in, inhaling the scent of your hair and grazing his nose along the side of your neck. You force yourself to breath in and out, feeling an impending heart attack.

“‘Cause if you do, I’ll make sure to fuck you in front of everyone, especially on Deku’s broken body.”

And then you can’t stop them, the tears fall from your body shaking in pure fear at his threat.

You knew he wouldn’t actually do something like that, but hearing it snarled in your ear so softly made you believe it all the same, the power he held while you were fucked, literally and metaphorically.

“Now I’m not gonna ask you again. Take this shit off before I burn it, bitch.”

You don’t want to piss him off further, so with trembling hands you lift the edge of your sticky uniform and start to pull it off, but he stops you with a frustrated grunt.

“Slowly. I wanna savor this while no ones here.”

You bite your lip and suppress a scream as you do what he says.

And oh, does he ever savor it. The shirt clings deliciously to your breasts, and he licks his lips as it ruffles up and over your head. Your skin is perspiring from the humid air, a sheen of sweat lightly decorating your collarbones. Bakugo can’t hold himself back any longer, and you yelp when he comes at you suddenly.

He lunges at your face and pins your arms down by your side again as his lips mesh against yours, his kiss filled with clacking teeth and a thrashing tongue against your lips. The knee you’re straddling is bouncing lightly up and down, jostling you on it and causing your cunt to pulsate with heat.

You let out a distressed moan, and he swallows it greedily, using the advantage of your open mouth to delve deeper into your wet cavern. You open bleary eyes and flinch when you find his already wide open, staring back into unforgiving vermillion orbs.

He pulls back slightly, panting. “I bet Deku didn’t get this kind of treatment, huh? It’s all for me right?”

You don’t know if he’s genuinely asking you or just being insane, so you don’t answer him. Fortunately and unfortunately for you, he doesn’t care for your response, rather more focusing on dragging you by your neck towards the hot showers.

You slip and stumble as he shoves you in a stall, gaining your balance only too late when he turns and locks the door.

“Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, just forget you saw or heard anything at the springs, it was just girl talk, stupid stuff that didn’t mean anything-“

“-even if it didn’t mean anything to you I’ll make sure you believe what you’ll feel after I fuck you senseless.”

And with that, he tugs off his clothes and licks his lips at the sight of you cowering against the wall, naked and oh so vulnerable.

He slowly shifts towards you, pressing his body flush against your trembling one. You can feel the outline of his erection on your thigh, and you swallow at how big it is.

“I don’t wanna have to close your mouth or restrain you when I’m balls deep in that tight cunt. So don’t do anything stupid and this’ll be a whole lot easier for you.”

He reaches a hand down and lightly strokes your labia, relishing in how you whimper and jerk against him, but don’t dare try to stop his hand.

Smart girl

Another hand finds its way to your tits, tugging and pulling at your hardened nipples. You gasp and arch into his touch, slowly coming undone from his ministrations. He humps against your leg like a teenage kid, grunting while he does so.

His mouth is attacking yours once again, but now you’re too tired from the constant surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins to even move your head. You just let him play with your body, your heart, your soul.

“I think the princess is wet enough for me now,” he leers at you when he pulls his fingers away, scissoring his digits to show the strings of wetness he pulled from your pussy.

You squeal and grab onto his chiseled arms as he suddenly hikes his hands underneath your upper thighs and picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his middle for support.

He slams you against the wall, the water cascading down your head is making your hair stick to your face, and in a strange and sudden show of intimacy Bakugo softly moves your locks away from your eyes. Your gazes lock, yours desperate and tear filled while his scarlet hues show no signs of mercy, but rather a strange predatory hunger.

Your arms scrabble behind his head and on his shoulders for balance as he slowly sinks you down on his length. You hiss and throw your head back at the sensation of being filled, and he eats it up.

He watches the way your mouth opens, your eyes widen, as every sinful sound your body can make escapes you.

As if he needed more of an ego boost

You wail as the last inches are sucked into your dripping hole, and he lets out a mean breathy laugh.

“Fuck, you really were ready huh? I should’ve taken you weeks ago, little slut.”

Your brows furrow and you try to turn your face away but he snatches your chin in a hardened grip.

“Uh-uh, none of that shit. You were doing so well, don’t turn away from me now.”

He slowly starts to roll his hips minutely into yours, not exactly thrusting but enough movement to make your cunt flutter and throb.

“What do you want me to say? You got what you wanted!” You whisper to him, more tears falling down freely down your cheeks.

He can’t help himself, he groans and surges forward to lick the salty rivers up, gripping your ass tightly when you flinch.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you want me, how much better I am than that green-haired bastard and I won’t shove it up your ass.”

You can feel his abdomen clench and shake from the effort he’s making not to completely batter your cervix so you give in quickly, afraid of what he’s like when his thin strands of self restraint snap.

“I...I love you Bakugo. I really want y-ooh!”

The last bit of your sentence is choked off as he lifts you up all the way to his tip and slams your hips down his length. You gasp and weave your hands through his hair for support, your legs violently shaking at the pain.

He grunts and starts really giving it to you, setting a fast pace as he bounces you on his cock. Your head is bobbing around, you’re fairly certain there’s drool coming down your lips but you can’t find it in you to care as he fucks you into oblivion.

After a couple of more painful thrusts he pushes you against the wall and removes your hands from his hair, holding them above your head against the wall. You’re trapped with your upper half plastered against the dingy tile while your lower half is wrapped his dick.

Your cunt swallowing him down is the only leverage you have, so your whole body weight presses down on his shaft. He moans loudly at the pressure on his tip, your gooey hot walls clamping around him from every angle and you yourself can’t help it when your eyes roll back at the sensation.

He rocks his hips up, and up you go as well, whining and clawing at the wall behind you, desperately grappling onto your sanity as well. Your tits bounce with each thrust, and his glinting eyes take perverse joy in their obscene movements.

Bakugo starts moving in earnst now, deeming the slow strokes enough prep for you. He batters your womb, reaching places not even your fingers could access, making you go cross eyed.

He sees this and snickers at your pathetic state.

“Fuck yeah you little whore. You’re gonna learn no one else can satisfy this slutty pussy like I can.”

You give him nothing but a choked gasp in response. You head moves like a bobblehead, you can’t even see clearly from the water cascading into your eyes. He’s just a towering blob of ashy blond hair and large muscles.

His hips start stuttering in their rhythm, drawing to a close from his contrasting pounding minutes earlier. Your nails rake over his forearms, holding on for dear life as he pants and groans into your ear like an animal. His dick spasms inside you for a second or two, and then Bakugo suddenly holds you tight against him, wet bodies pressed against each other as he cums.

He lets out a loud moan as you whine into his shoulder at the sensation of his hot seed filling you up. You’re held against his heaving chest for a moment of two, the both of you catching your breath until he slowly backs up and lets you slip to the ground.

It’s suddenly very quiet, the sound of the shower is drowned out by the ringing in your head. You’re shaking, shock overcoming your abused body as you refuse to look at him.

But he won’t have any of that. He steps forward, and you flinch yet again, scrambling backwards to put very necessary space between him and you.

“You got what you wanted. Please leave, I won’t say anything to anyone.” You breath out shakily.

He’s silent for a moment before you hear him chuckle. His low chuckles grow louder and more derisive, he’s booming with sinister laughter and you snap your head up in horror at him.

“You think this is done?”

He crouches to your level suddenly, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head at you, eyeing your naked body that he so recently claimed as his. His gaze travels down to where his cum seeps from between your legs, and you quickly cross your limbs over to prevent him from seeing the lewd sight.

“You’re mine now, Y/N. I already told you, you’re not gonna be talking to Deku, or any other guy apart from me. You think they’ll even want you when they find out how you loved being fucked in the dirty showers? Everyone’s gonna call you a slut, nothing else.”

“No, that’s not true you-“

He crawls to you, and it’s so mesmerizingly terrifying to see a man of his build crawl to you like some deranged humanoid that you shut up, words caught in your throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says softly. “You’re my bitch now, and you’ll do whatever the fuck I say, when I say it.”

Bakugo might’ve felt a little bad to see the girl he liked so scared of him all because of his doing, but the way you trembled and crossed your legs like the stupid, helpless little girl that you were erased every hesitancy from his mind.

He grabbed your cheeks and smushed them together, paying no mind to the pleas and whimpers you let out in retaliation.

Licking a long stripe up your neck, you shivered when he growled, “now clean up and be outside in 10 minutes, you’re sleeping in my bunk tonight. The guys are all asleep so we’ll just take an empty room in the cabin.”

He released you and stood back up, grabbing a towel for himself along the way. Drying his hair off, his back was turned to you as he started picking his clothes up too.

You just sat there in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was dressed, and he was at the door now.

“If you think about doing anything stupid or take longer than 10 minutes, I’ll come back in and get you personally. And I’ll make sure that we stay here for the rest of the night, just in case you like your little time alone that I’m giving you too much.”

#tw: noncon #bakugo smut #yandere bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo mha #bakugo bnha #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha yandere #yandere Bakugo #bnha yandere #bnha smut #mha smut

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 10

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

It seems that as you get closer to the boys, the more they open up to you. That’s also when you realise just how much they actually left out of their supposedly honest profiles.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

*BANG*

“What-” The door opened and soon, there was fast padding against your carpeted ground. Another body dove under the cover and curled itself next to yours. You blinked, sitting up immediately.

“Who...” You lifted the blanket to see who the quivering figure was.

“J-Jimin?! What are you doing here?” That was when you stopped, feeling the warmth that he was radiating onto your thigh. Throwing the covers back, Jimin hugged himself and you touched his forehead and cheeks. Reaching into your nightstand, you grabbed your thermometer, turning it on and sticking it into Jimin’s ears.

“You’re running a high fever!” You saw his temperature. Jimin shivered, grabbing your blanket to wrap himself up.

“Chim, can you hear me?” You called.

“C-Cold...” He stuttered. You got out of bed, heading out the door. It was quite early that the hallways were still rather empty. Going into your office, you grabbed what you needed.

“(y/n)?” Jin blinked as you rushed by him. He was always one of the early risers of the family.

“Can’t talk! Jimin! Sick!” You replied, running into your room. You turned Jimin onto his back, making him groan.

“Jimin hardly falls sick but when he does, it’s bad. Been like that since he was a kid.” Jin stood by the door way, arms crossed. You grabbed Jimin’s arm, cleaning it with an alcohol swab and poking the needle in with medication and fluids for him.

(A/N: For those wondering why the OC always put them on IV drips or if you do know some stuff about needle site complications, I’ve researched and spoken to friends in Korea. They actually get IV drips and injections very often for simple things like hangovers and the flu.)

“I got you a pail with iced water.” Jin stood by your side.

“Thanks.” You wrung the dampen towel, placing it on Jimin’s forehead. Taking your phone, you set a two hour timer.

“I’ll go let the others know Jimin is sick. As well as call his office. Let us know if you need anything.” Jin said and you nodded. He left as you wiped Jimin’s neck and arms with a cold towel.

“Omma...” He tensed.

"Shhh, Chim.” You hushed him, placing the towel on his forehead. You went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and change into more presentable clothes.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You replied, combing your hair. Yoongi stood at the doorway. He looked flustered, rubbing the back of his neck. You blinked at him for two seconds but turned back to the mirror, fixing your hair. Yoongi wordlessly entered your room, standing over Jimin. From the corner of your eyes, you watched him cup Jimin’s cheek.

“How’s he?” Yoongi asked.

“Fine. He came in with a really high temperature so I put him on a drip. I’ll check his temperature again soon. Thankfully he stopped shivering and went back to sleep.” You replied.

“That’s good.” Yoongi mumbled, stroking Jimin’s head gently.

“Jin said when he gets sick, it’s often bad?” You asked. Yoongi nodded in confirmation.

“He got sick often as a kid and had febrile seizures. So he was always in and out of the hospital. His parents thought it would be the best way to keep him healthy. He’s gotten better over the years.” Yoongi explained.

“I don’t remembering reading about febrile seizures in the profiles.” You crossed your arms. Yoongi didn’t seem bothered by your dissatisfaction.

“He didn’t think it was necessary for you to know. It brings back a lot of bad memories for him. That’s why he came to you. He always just looks for someone to sleep next to. I’m sure he called you his mother in his feverish stupor right?” Yoongi asked. You nodded.

“Postpone my therapy session to tomorrow. I want you to care for Jimin today.” Yoongi ordered.

“I can do both, Yoon. He’ll most likely just sleep the whole day anyway.”

“No. I want you to just focus on Jimin today. An extra day won’t kill me. We’ll do it tomorrow.” Yoongi straightened up. You pursed your lips, knowing Yoongi won’t give in.

“Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow.” You gave in.

“Just stay with him. He always just needs someone by his side to help him feel better.” Yoongi instructed. You gave a thumbs up. With an acknowledging nod, the male left the room. You sat by Jimin’s side.

“You’re still so warm.” You sighed, taking his temperature again. After the beep, you saw the numbers and realised he was still running a high temperature so you continued to wipe him down with a towel and iced water. You drew the blanket back and he shivered slightly but you needed his temperature to go back down.

“Come on, Kookie.” Since you lowered the room temperature, you took Kookie out and brought him to Jungkook’s room.

“Huh?” Jungkook woke up.

“Parent duties.” You placed Kookie down on Jungkook’s blanket covered chest. Jungkook yawned and frowned, still trying to process what was going on. But he didn’t seem bothered as he went back to sleep.

“Bye, Kookie. Don’t fall off the bed or get squished by your appa.” You stroked his ears before leaving.

“Oh, doc. Morning.” Hoseok spotted you just as you were leaving Jungkook’s room. You gave a small smile and waved at him.

“I heard what happened to Jimin. How is he?”

“His temperature was rather high when he came. I’ve put him on a drip and iced him down. He should be fine in the next hour or so. I’m keeping my eye on him for the rest of the day. He’s residing in my room anyway.” You chuckled. Hoseok nodded with a sigh of relief.

“I’ll be taking over his duties for the day.” Hoseok informed. You nodded your head, patting his shoulder.

“Good luck.” You smiled. Hoseok gave you a slight hug before leaving you in the hallway. You went back to your room to find Jimin still sleeping, he looked a lot more comfortable, the frown off his face.

“Suffered from febrile seizures since adolescent years. After that, prone to severe fevers.” You noted down in your notepad.

“These boys seriously need to be hooked to a lie detector test for me to get a real background check.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head. You left to get your coffee.

“Can I get some beef mince juk for Jimin? And a glass of juice, with a straw.” You ordered. The maids nodded, rushing immediately. You made a small sandwich for yourself, bringing it back to your room with your iced coffee. As you did your work on the laptop on the bed, beside Jimin, you ate your breakfast and drank your coffee.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Done.” Once the drip was done, you removed the needle from Jimin’s arm and placed a band aid over it. Putting everything aside, you took his temperature.

“Gone down a little...” You sighed and threw all the used materials away. After washing your hands, you left the room and headed to your office to get the necessary medications in a cup.

“Second time seeing you today. No girlfriend duties?” You asked Jin.

“You know she’s not a girlfriend, not even an acquaintance. But I’m surprised you asked, curious?” Jin smirked.

“Not even close. Just wanted to make sure since I have to prepare my ears for that shrill voice of hers.” You patted his shoulder, entering your room with the medication. Jin shook his head with a chuckle at your words.

“Bye!” He waved at you, to which you saluted.

“Doctor (y/l/n), this is young master Jimin’s meal that you requested.” The butler came with a tray. You nodded, letting him into the room. He placed the tray on your desk and bowed before leaving. You placed the medication down and opened the metal lid.

“(y/n)...?” You heard someone call you and turned around. Jimin frowned as he opened his eyes slightly.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty, right on time. How are you feeling?” You smiled softly, walking to his side. Jimin let out a groan of discomfort, looking around, seemingly confused at where he was.

“W-Where am I? I... I feel... horrible.” Jimin placed a hand on his forehead.

“Of course, you do. You’ve been running a high fever the whole morning. You came into my room and I put you on a drip. Thankfully, your fever is gone.” You informed.

“I-I see...”

“Come, sit up. Your lunch just came. After that, I’ll give you some medication to feel better.” You used another pillow to prop him up. Jimin pushed himself up slightly into a comfortable sitting position. You placed the glass of juice on the nightstand and pulled a chair, the bowl of warm porridge in your lap. Jimin’s cheeks turned pink.

“Uh... you don’t have to feed-”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m on Jimin care duty for the entire day.” You chuckled. You gave him a sip of juice first before blowing on the porridge lightly and feeding it to him.

“So, would you like to tell me why you left out childhood febrile seizures from your health record?” You asked. Jimin choked and coughed.

“Oh. You know about that.”

“You guys need to be honest with me in these things. I told you how important it is for me to know these things. I know you boys want to prove how tough you are but you don’t need to do that with me. You know I don’t care.” You continued to feed him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jimin pouted like a scolded child. You laughed and patted his head. Once he finished, you placed the juice in his hands and went to put the empty bowl back on the tray.

“Here, have these and sleep more.” You gave him the medicine cup. He obediently ate the tablets, washing it down with the juice.

“Can I-”

“Yes, you can still sleep here. Don’t worry.” You smiled and tucked him back under the blanket. You brought the tray with the empty cup and bowl out to the kitchen, getting a bottle of water for Jimin.

“He woke up?” Yoongi asked.

“Wow, I don’t think you’ve ever sought me out so many times in one day, Yoonie. I must say, I’m touched.” You wiped a fake tear.

“Crazy woman.” Yoongi scoffed. He went to your room and you followed behind him, snickering with your hands tucked into your pockets. Jimin was already asleep when you and Yoongi entered. You pulled the chair at Jimin’s bedside out for Yoongi to sit in. Yoongi placed his hand on Jimin’s forehead, pushing his fringe back.

“He’s okay, Yoongi. Kept his food down. All he needs now is rest.” You leaned back against your desk, arms crossed. Yoongi hummed, pulling his hand away from Jimin.

“I’ll go now.” He said and left the room. You sat on your side of the bed, staring at Jimin’s sleeping face.

When Jimin stirred awake, the sun had set. He squinted his eyes, remembering where he was. Slowly, he turned his head beside him, you had fallen asleep in a sitting position.

“(y/n)... You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Jimin sighed. Even if his body ached, he was still able to push himself up and help you lie down comfortably. He fell back down beside you. You radiated warmth that made the still slightly feverish Jimin subconsciously scooted closer to you.

“Aren’t you going to help me?” Jimin coughed. You stood by the side, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. It was a little late, way past dinner time.

“You took advantage of me when I was asleep.” You glared.

“I didn’t! Y-You were just warm... So I gravitated to you...” Jimin blushed, looking away. Waking up with you and Jimin snuggling together was... eventful... to say the least.

“Excuses.” You scoffed.

“Well, you almost kicked me off the bed!” Jimin exclaimed. You walked down the stairs while Jimin slowly shuffled on his own, the sound of his house slippers brushing against the floor. The others were all chatting in the living room, each with their individual drinks. They turned their heads at the sound of both your footsteps approaching.

“Look who’s awake.” Hoseok smiled.

“I’m complaining about being taken advantage of while I was vulnerable.” You shouted as you walked past them to head into the kitchen. Jimin rolled his eyes, falling down onto the couch.

“Want a-”

“If any of you feed him alcohol, you’re dead!” You threatened from the kitchen. The kitchen was empty with all the staff having gone home.

“Hmm, let’s see.” With all the ingredients, you decided to make some spicy beef soup for Jimin, to clear his sinuses. While waiting for it to boil, you cut some fruit and made some citrus tea for him.

“Here, have this first. The soup needs to simmer for a while.” You handed him a tray with the fruit and tea.

“Smells good!” Jungkook grinned.

“You can have a bowl too later, if you’d like. I made more than enough” You patted his head. You couldn’t cook like a restaurant chef but you did live alone before this so you made an effort to learn how to cook from your mother and you always tested new recipes on your own.

“Wow, you know how to cook too. You surprise us everyday, doc.” Namjoon chuckled. You scoffed at him.

“You guys just don’t give me the chance to cook so you wouldn’t know.” You crossed your arms. When Jimin finished, you brought the tray to the kitchen. You checked the soup when someone came into the kitchen.

“How is it?” Taehyung asked.

“It’s still simmering. Here.” You let him taste a bit and he nodded his head, giving a thumbs up. Instead of leaving, he sat on one of the island chairs.

“Can I fix you anything?” You offered, back facing him.

“No.” He slid off the bar stool, heading to the pantry cupboard and digging for snacks that he could munch on. All you heard was the bubbling of the soup and his munching. Since he was munching on cookies, you warmed a glass of milk for him. Taehyung received the mug gratefully, holding it in both his hands as he took careful sips.

“Jungkook, do you want a bowl?” You stuck your head out of the kitchen.

“Yes!” He nodded his head and you took 3 bowls out, rinsing them with some warm water to warm them up.

“You pay a lot of attention to details.” Taehyung pointed out.

“Call it a habit, I guess.” You shrugged. After doing one final taste, you ladled some into the bowls and garnished them, putting some freshly cooked rice into the broth to make a rice and soup combination.

“I’ll help.” Taehyung took two bowls from you.

“Here, Chim. This is yours.” You placed it on the coffee table. He slid to the ground, inhaling the scent and letting out a sigh of happiness. Jungkook clapped his hands excitedly too, taking a seat beside you on the ground as Taehyung placed the bowls down.

“It looks and smells super good.” Hoseok leaned down to steal some broth from Jungkook, making the maknae whine.

“There’s extras if you’d all like some.” You told them. Soon, the others all had their own bowls of spicy beef broth and rice, some deciding not to dunk the rice in to soak, preferring to eat it separately.

“You should cook more.” Yoongi said.

“If you’d let me. I’ll be happy to.” You smiled, putting a spoonful of broth and rice into your mouth.

“More!” Jungkook placed his second full bowl on the table.

“Yah, it’s so late and you already ate dinner earlier! You’re going to puff up from all this liquid tomorrow!” Jin scolded.

“But that was 3 hours ago!” Jungkook snorted, continuing to eat. Seeing as Jungkook took the last bit of broth, you saw Hoseok and Taehyung trying to steal some from him, much to the maknae’s annoyance.

“I’m going to put these in the sink.” You stood up, taking yours and Jimin’s empty bowl to the kitchen.

“We can bring dishes on our own too. And leave the dishes tomorrow, you’ve done a lot by cooking enough to feed all of us already.” Namjoon patted your head as he walked past you. You nodded your head, heading back out to the living room. You went to your office and got some medications for Jimin to take before he went to bed.

“Here.” You gave it to him with some water. He downed them in one shot and you took a seat on the adjacent couch beside Yoongi. They all spoke business while you tried your best to stay awake but it was all too boring.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep but when Yoongi felt a weight on his shoulder, he turned to see you fast asleep.

“Don’t move.” Jin whispered harshly.

“Why did you think I would?!” Yoongi hissed, stiff as a board. Even though you were only lying on Yoongi, the rest were also frozen, as if them moving would cause you to wake up too.

“What should we do?” Jimin asked.

“Jungkook can carry her, like the other time.” Hoseok suggested. Just as Jungkook stood up to head to you, you stirred, snuggling close to Yoongi.

“Maybe don’t move her? For now at least?” Taehyung put his hand out to stop the maknae. Yoongi took another glance at your sleeping figure and nodded in agreement with the younger.

“Chim, you should turn in first. You’re still ill. If doc wakes up and finds out, we’ll all be dead.” Namjoon chuckled and the rest laughed in agreement. Even when you were asleep, the boys were still afraid of your wrath. Jimin nodded his head obediently, standing up with Taehyung and retreating.

“Hyung, what about you?” Jungkook asked.

“I’ll stay here a while more. Maybe she will wake up later. You guys go ahead.” Yoongi waved them all off, unbothered. He took his phone out and began scrolling through it.

“Hmm, you sure?” Jin tilted his head. Yoongi nodded in confirmation.

“You wanna try and wake her up instead? Be my guest.” Yoongi challenged with a teasing smirk.

“Goodnight, hyung! Call me if your shoulder breaks!” Jungkook zoomed out of there so quickly no one saw him. The rest put their hands up in defence too, heading out of the room and into their own for the night. Before leaving, Hoseok placed a blanket over the both of you. Yoongi scoffed at the maknae’s words, leaning his head back against the couch.

The next morning, the butler was patrolling the house when he hushed the maids, seeing two figures on the couch. You were still there, fast asleep with a sleeping Yoongi’s head resting on top of yours.

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

The Boy With The Easel (A Young Artist!Helmut Zemo x Reader Oneshot)

(Hey! If you end up enjoying this fic, it’s the first chronological part of a new fun expanded AU I’ve created with @creme-bruhlee! Their fic Bliss is part of the same timeline and takes place about a year after this one, so you should check it out!!!)

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Tags: Meet Cute, College AU, First Meetings, Coffee Date, Artist!Zemo, Embarrassment, Awkward College Kids Falling In Love

Rating: T

Warnings: Very Vague Mention of Sexual Content, Swearing, Zemo Says The Word Daddy In Reference To His Father and The Reader Thinks It’s Kinda Hot

Word Count: 7000~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3!

------

The University of Novi Grad

Fall 1996

Mornings in Novi Grad could be beautiful if you knew what to look for.

Sokovia was… different from America in many ways. From the language to the scenery, you often found yourself adrift in the strangeness of it all. There had been nothing quite as old as the buildings in the historical district of Novi Grad back home, no towering grey behemoths serving as a reminder of a bygone fight against Soviet invasion in the memories of your childhood. Still, though, there was beauty in the strangeness nonetheless.

From your tiny room in the Helena Lyudmila International Scholar’s dorm, for instance, you had a perfect view of a large campus courtyard hosting a statue of the donor by the same name. She was some royal who had invested in education a few hundred years ago, and by the looks of her metal likeness, she had been quite pretty. The sight of her shining in the early morning sun was one of the things that made uprooting your whole life seem worth it in the end, no matter how silly that seemed.

There were other small comforts that you had found beauty in during your first month attending your prestigious university, too.

You found beauty in the way the sunlight streamed over the rooftops like the opening to an Oscar-winning film. In the sound of traffic below and the overcast skies above. Sandwiches from corner stores, wildflowers growing in the median of the road, cups of the worlds best black coffee served steaming by scowling attendants at the cafe; Everywhere there was something small and kind and just familiar enough to relish in, more than able to distract you from the stress of living hand-to-mouth in a country where you didn’t even know the language. It made it all worth it.

That being said there was something else too…

Someone else to be specific.

The campus tended to run like clockwork. The same groups of students would walk past your window to their classes, the same professors would get their coffee and lunch at the little cafe across the square, and every weekday morning at 8 am on the dot, easel boy would set up his palette and canvas and paint the same bustling street.

He was talented, that you couldn’t deny. Even from the 6th floor, which was a considerable distance away, it was possible to admire the detailing and consistency with which he painted. His talent wasn’t when kept you captive at your window in the morning, though. Though you were sure his art was beautiful, he himself was a thousand times more stunning.

All dark eyes and dark hair and dark clothes, he parted crowds with his piercing gaze alone. He was always dressed like the protagonist of some awful artsy film. Massive argyle sweaters, untucked button-ups, corduroy jackets, and flare bottomed pants that must have survived his father’s wardrobe from the ’70s… his style was as close you could get to atrocious while still being impeccable as possible, and that wasn’t even getting started on the smudged black liner always present under his persistent gaze. You had never had the pleasure (or embarrassment for that matter) of meeting him in person, but you were sure that you would have had the same awed and slightly frightened reaction if you ever did. He could have been plucked entirely from the pages of some awful romance novel.

You were well and truly smitten with the idea of him.

If you looked at your morning routine through the eyes of a stranger, you’d consider yourself odd for your strange obsession with him, but you didn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t an obsession. You never overstepped your bounds. He was simply pleasing to look at and so you did. That didn’t constitute as obsessive, right?

Even if it did, you weren’t causing any harm.

Easel boy, as you had come to refer to him, was simply a tool you used to ground yourself in your new and frightening environment. Nothing more. If you ever met him, you would surely hate him from the short interactions you’d seen him have with strangers. They never ended well. He would remain an unattainable, attractive ideal in your mind until he eventually faded away into a funny memory you’d share with your kids one day.

Until then, though, you would watch him from your window before your morning classes and refused to feel guilty about it. So, that was that, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

On the morning in question, you had woken up a little late and in a foul mood. In preparation for a test in your foundations of algebra course you had spent the better part of the night pouring over formulas while your upstairs neighbor’s bed slammed repeatedly into the wall and floor. Though you were sure they were having an excellent time, you were most definitely not. It all culminated in you missing your original alarms and despite the fact that your first class started at 10, you were exhausted, furious, and not looking forward to missing breakfast to finish the assigned reading you had put off the night before. The only thing keeping you from throwing in the towel and just giving up was the promise of seeing the painter.

So, when he arrived for the day at 8 am sharp, you were positioned at the ledge by your window, textbook in hand with a mug of instant coffee at your right. It was like a breath of fresh air.

As usual, he retrieved a small pack of cigarettes from the back of his eternally paint-stained jeans only to bring one to his lips and light it quickly. He always smoked before he worked, and just like always, he took an extra cigarette from the pack to tuck behind his ear for later. Then, he got to work setting up his easel and the small stool where he set his palette.

Pulling tubes of acrylic, brushes, and pencils from his well-worn messenger bag, easel boy flipped out the kickstand without any problem and set his thick, pre-primed canvas on the worn metal. You watched in fascination. Art had always seemed so unattainable to you. Instead, you were drawn to the more academic. The man before you, though, created beauty with an ease that had evaded you all your life, and it had you both jealous and entirely intrigued. Slowly, you reached down to take a sip of your coffee as you let your eyes drift back to your reading.

Learning about ancient Babylon was far less interesting than watching him, though.

When you next looked out the window and away from your work the handsome artist had created his base sketch already. How did he do it so fast? You assumed it was practice. He had been drawing the same 3 buildings every weekday morning for at least a month, so after a while, it must have been second nature to measure out the lines and put things into perspective. You smiled. He tended to have that effect on you.

The process was repeated until a little before 9:30. You would read a few paragraphs then look up to watch the painting progress from a sketch to a full-fledged work of art. It was good today from what you could see. The colors were a bit more muted than usual, but that was only on account of the awful, dreary overcast sky that threatened to dump rain on the city at any time. Overall, you would have considered it a masterpiece. Easel boy didn’t seem to think the same.

He regarded the painting with a sort of begrudging satisfaction that bordered on disappointment before he pulled the second cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and began the process of packing up his materials. You finished the last of your coffee watching him do so. Smoking, well, smoking tobacco at least, had always been a vice you had avoided and yet you often wondered what it would feel like to take a drag of one of his cigarettes after it had been between his lips. Then, the magic lifted.

He folded up the flimsy easel, tucked it away with his materials back into his messenger bag, hoisted the stool under one arm and the painting under the other before taking off at a brisk clip down the street away from your window. You watched him until he was out of sight.

You were snapped from your concentration by a knock at your door.

“Y/N,” a heavily accented voice called, sending you scrambling for your bag, “If you are not outside in the next 15 seconds I will break down your door,”

Shit.

“Coming, Sasha!” You wailed. It took about 10 of those seconds to grab your backpack and shove your textbook inside, an extra 2 to check your appearance in the mirror- you looked slightly disheveled, but it was the best you were gonna do after the night you’d had. Besides, it wasn’t like you were doing anything important. You didn’t need to be dressed for a date -and you were opening the door for a quick save at the 14th second. Your door was safe for another day.

Out in the hall waited Sasha Balandin, arms crossed and grey eyes piercing in the flickering light of the terrible overhead fluorescents. As a fellow international student, you had become fast friends with Sasha. He was a little rough around the edges, and definitely didn’t take your bullshit, but he was a rare friend. “I have been waiting for 10 minutes,” he griped. You tried your best to look apologetic. “Don’t do that,”

“Do what?” You asked, closing and locking your door behind you as you began walking down the hallway.

Sasha huffed. “Do not pretend you were not too busy ogling that painter in the courtyard to hear me knocking on your door,” His Russian bluntness was on full display now as you shook your head in mock disbelief.

“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that!”

“It is not an accusation if it is true,”

“There’s no way you know for a fact that I was watching him again,”

“But you were. This happens every week,”

You sighed, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I was,”

Taking the stairs in twos, Sasha sighed. “You are too soft, Y/N. Besides, you have said so often that he seems like an asshole. Why do you continue to get all mushy at him out the window if this is the case?”

“Because… well, because…” for a moment, you floundered in search of an answer that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete freak, but you found that there really wasn’t one. It came down the one small factor. “He’s just really hot, okay?”

The look Sasha gave you could have killed. He kept his mouth shut, though, choosing to let his silence shame you more than anything else did. It worked. For the entire trip down the stairs and the mile-long walk to your lecture hall, you felt the weight of shame heavy on your shoulders. Or maybe it was just your backpack. You didn’t know which you’d prefer. He did start speaking again eventually, going on about some party you had missed in favor of studying, but the feeling never left. Even as you sat down for your lecture it was still at the forefront of your mind. In fact, you were so busy thinking about your crush on easel boy and the problems with it that you barely paid attention to the professor’s rehashing of the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Your error only hit when the professor flipped the PowerPoint to the final slide.

“Before you go, I want to remind you that you have a paper on the importance of Enkidu in the Epic is due at the beginning of class this Friday. The details and requirements should be listed in your syllabus. Class dismissed,”

Fuck.

Friday was only two days away.

You were so screwed.

The problem was, you didn’t have a spare copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh just lying around your dorm room. Usually that wouldn’t have been an issue, the professor for your current history course used English for her slide because her particular history course was specifically for first-year international students. Unfortunately for you, though, you hadn’t been taking notes. Instead, you had been daydreaming about how it would feel to have easel boy blow his cigarette smoke in your face and then subsequently scolding yourself for having thoughts like that about a total stranger. In a terrible twist of fate, the professor only held office hours after her last classes on Mondays and Fridays, so even getting the information from her then was off the table. Dread began to pool in your stomach.

Any other student would have been able to cut their losses, rent a copy from the library, slog through it in a night, and write the damn essay even without the help of the classroom slides for context. The only problem was all the books in the library were in Sokovian, and you still barely knew how to order a coffee correctly. Reading the language in a full Cyrillic alphabet would just be impossible, especially for a book as stupidly old as the Epic of Gilgamesh.

In short, unless you could get your hands on a copy in the next day or so, you were absolutely, well-and-truly fucked.

Sasha was quick to find you as the hall cleared out, waiting near your seat as you packed away your notes. “That was all bullshit, no?” He asked, but the second he took in your slightly panicked expression he stopped short, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing deeply. You knew what he was going to say before he ever said it.

“Something is wrong. You were not paying attention. Were you thinking-”

“Yes. Okay? Yes, I was thinking about him,”

He shook his head slightly. “I am concerned for you,”

“Who isn’t?”

Despite his usually stoic demeanor, that made Sasha huff out a soft laugh. “You got yourself into this mess, Y/N, you will get yourself out somehow,”

Your jaw dropped as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started making your way towards the door. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“Though I would love to be helpful, you forget that my English is poor. It will do me better to read the book in Sokovian myself than to use the information from class,”

Oh, yeah. You winced. “Sorry, Sash’”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he shrugged as you walked out onto the lawn, chilled to the bone by the wind that whipped in every direction.

A storm was brewing. It might not fully take hold of the city for a few hours yet, but it would make the walk to your evening class absolute hell if the rain fell as hard as it had several weeks prior. You could only hope that it wouldn’t start until after you had walked home. Your odds were looking slim, though, based on the way you could already hear thunder clapping in the distance. After a moment you hit the edge of the sidewalk where your paths would diverge.

“Good luck with the paper,” you offered weakly.

Sasha replied with a sharp, “Good luck with your crush,” and then he was off in the opposite direction without another word. Sasha was blunt like that, never overstaying his welcome or lingering when he didn’t need to. There was something enviable about it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to simply say things as they were without an unnecessary sugar coating to save face and spare feelings. It lingered on your mind for the whole half-mile walk to the campus bookstore. Speaking of which...

There was only one place where you might possibly find an English copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh. It wasn’t the big student bookstore, most of the textbooks there had been in Sokovian, Russian, or German and you hadn’t even tried to set foot in their actual book section. No, your only hope was the tiny hole-in-the-wall bookstore you had stumbled upon during move-in. It was only about half a mile away from your dorm from any of your lecture halls, so you often found yourself wandering inside when you had time to kill. They were one of the only stores you’d come across that sold anything in English, magazines included, so despite the fact that the young cashiers rarely spoke your language you often found that the back shelves of that tiny shop kept you from going mad.

Now, they might also be keeping you from ruining your GPA.

You could only hope. If anybody could save you, it was them.

Ducking in through the small doorway, you were greeted by the soft ring of the bell above your head. The attendant at the register simply regarded you with a polite nod. You had seen her there before and she knew you barely spoke a lick of Sokovian, so she didn’t attempt a pleasantry. Instead, she simply let you wander through the entrance and into the towering bookshelves, passing a few other faceless shoppers on your way towards the back. You were grateful for her nonchalance.

If there was anything worse than feeling foolish for not knowing Sokovian, it was being talked down to in perfect English by a Sokovian citizen. Most interactions left you wishing you’d actually taken anything away from your high school French class other than emotional trauma from your teacher and a caffeine addiction. Damn America and its terrible public-school language programs…

The path to the English classics section was one you’d walked many times since discovering the book store. It was right in the very back corner of the shop, tucked away where the city natives wouldn’t have to address or see it. You had snagged a copy of Pride and Prejudice a few weeks back, so you knew exactly where to search. The only problem was slogging through every single book on the shelf in search of the one you were looking for.

Your eyes scanned the wall.

Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh…

Gilgamesh!

On the 6th shelf up sat one small copy. Score! You were saved! As you reached up to grab it, though, you were met with yet another roadblock. The shelf it was on was juuuust a little too high for you to reach. Oh, come on…

You hopped a little, extending your hand up as far as it could go, but your fingers just barely brushed the spine. Somewhere behind you, you could hear footsteps. Then someone coughed to suppress laughter. The shame was plain on your face. As your flannel rode up and you stretched up in one last desperate attempt to grab the book when suddenly someone, you assumed the same person who had been laughing at your misfortune, spoke.

“They have stools, you know,” he said, accented voice thick with amusement. The English surprised you, but you assumed they used it for your benefit. You were in front of the English language books after all. Besides, the shame of it all kept your mind from questioning it too much. “For reaching the top shelf,”

Of course they had stools.

If your face hadn’t already been burning with embarrassment it definitely was now.

In a split-second decision, you decided playing dumb was the only way you could walk out of the situation with any dignity left at all, so you plastered on a confused smile and spun around to greet the stranger. “Really? I had no cl-”

You stopped short.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’d know those paint-stained jeans anywhere.

There, with his hands in his pockets and the most self-important, thin-lipped smirk you had ever seen, was easel boy in all of his cocky, intimidating, hot glory. Had you really noticed how hot he truly was before? It didn’t feel like it. Not now that you’d really seen him close up and reveled in the way his dark eyes hypnotized you with their smudged liner that felt borderline obscene. You could smell him too, all charcoal and turpentine and cigarette smoke. If you had it bad before when he was just a blurry ideal out your window, you were completely and utterly smitten now.

He regarded you with a sort of practiced annoyance, and yet there was a strange softness to it that you hadn’t found in many native Sokovians, especially ones that saw you as the stupid, bumbling American wandering blindly around their country.

“Would you like my help?”

“Huh?” You were so lost in his eyes that you couldn’t even focus on his question.

“To reach your book. Would you like my help?”

“Oh!” With a brisk nod, you stepped away from the shelf to make room for easel boy, “yeah, I’m just trying to grab that one there. The, uh, Epic of Gilgamesh,”

In one swift movement, he was stepping right beside you to easily reach up and grab the offending piece of literature. The closeness of it all nearly sent you into a tailspin. That wasn’t even mentioning the way your heart thudded just a little faster when he finally handed the book to you, his calloused fingers brushing against your own. You barely find a grip on your brain strong enough to thank him through the fog of embarrassment and attraction. Eventually, though, you managed to choke out a placation as your eyes explored the cover of the book.

“Thanks for that,”

“It was no problem,” he shrugged. He didn’t move though, still standing just inches away from you. When you looked up from the book you found his eyes were still on you, watching intently as if he expected something from you. The answer to what he actually expected was a mystery but you could tell he wanted something. When you didn’t speak, he spoke for you. “So, The Epic of Gilgamesh? That’s definitely a bold choice,”

You looked up at him sheepishly through heavily lidded eyes. “It’s not a choice at all, actually. I’m only buying it so I can write an essay,”

“Ah,” Something about his tone was almost disappointed as the conversation stalled.

You quickly changed the subject to the first thing you could think of.

“Your hair is really nice!”

“My hair?”

“Yeah… your hair,”

Smooth move, dumbass.

Easel boy’s expression seemed to soften once more as his signature grin crept back onto his face. “Thank you, I grew it myself,” Between his accent and the way he was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive, you weren’t exactly sure how you hadn’t had a heart attack yet. Still, the attention was nice, even if it was bourne out of you repeatedly embarrassing yourself in a never-ending cycle of fuckups. He ran a hand through his loose brown hair. “I like your shirt. Very American,”

Silently, you cursed yourself for not taking a few extra seconds to pick out a better outfit when you woke up. Standing next to him, even while he was dressed in his paint-stained jeans and undone button-up, you looked like a wreck in comparison. He didn’t seem to be speaking from a place of judgment, though.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was being nice, but that couldn’t be the case… could it?

“Maybe it’s just that I haven’t met very many Sokovians that are fond of America, but I’m not sure if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult,” You joked. It was a bit sarcastic, the lilt of your voice masking your deep insecurity, and to your surprise easel boy laughed. He really laughed. From your place beside him, you could almost feel the warmth radiating off of him as he shook his head.

“It was definitely a compliment,”

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat.

That was a new revelation.

You steeled yourself with a deep breath. Fuck it. It was now or never.

“I, uh… I’m Y/N, and you are?”

He regarded you once again with that strange expression of expectation. “What?”

“I asked for your name,” you repeated, and yet he still stood, slightly dumbfounded, staring down at you with that same expectant expression from earlier. For a moment, you almost thought he expected you to know it already. That fact was quickly glossed over when he moved to rub the back of his neck with his hand, eyes drifting down to the floor.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I’m not very good with people. My father thought college might help me finally connect with my peers, but I don’t think he expected that I was the problem, nor do I think he expected me to pick a degree in the arts,” Suddenly, he paused and stuck out his hand to you. “I’m Hel. It’s very nice to meet you Y/N,”

With only a moment of hesitation- because wow, your name had never sounded more right on someone’s lips -you took his large calloused hand in your own and shook it gently. His palm was warm, his fingers lingering on your own for just a moment even as he pulled away. It wasn’t much, just a soft brush against your flesh, but it sent a flash of heat and liquid confidence through your chest.

“Is that short for something?” Your eyes met his in the soft yellow glow of the overhead lamps. Seeing him like this, so up close and personal, he looked a lot more human than he had from your window. Sure, he was imposing. Underneath the initial harsh facade, though, was something softer and almost poetic. You weren’t an artist by any means but if you had been, you had no doubt that he’d be your muse.

“It’s short for Helmut, but only my father calls me that, and only when he’s cross, which, unfortunately, is most of the time,” he chuckled, “Besides, it’s an old man’s name. It doesn’t suit me,”

The words left your mouth before you knew what you were saying.

“Well, it’s better than calling you easel boy,”

Shit.

Today really just wasn’t your day, huh?

In the split second where you were mourning your chances with the most stupidly handsome guy who had ever shown any interest in you, you almost missed the way Helmut’s eyes lit up at the admission.

“Easel boy?” His voice was teasing, but not demeaning. That didn’t do much to ease your mortification, though.

“Is there any chance that I can get you to forget I said anything?”

“If you already have a nickname for me when we’ve barely met, I think you already know the answer to that question,”

His knowing smirk was enough to get you pleading. “You can’t just let me off the hook this once?” you begged, scrubbing a hand across your forehead in a desperate attempt to get away from his piercing gaze. The things those brown eyes did to you could be classified as obscene… “I will genuinely do anything if you don’t make me explain myself right now Hel,”

Hel quirked up an eyebrow. “Anything?” The way your stomach turned at just one word from him was both terrifying and extremely exciting. It felt like a promise. Without hesitation, you nodded. That made him smile. “In that case, get coffee with me today?”

Once again, you were rendered speechless.

“My treat,” he added, “unless you’re not interested…”

“No!” Your answer left your lips embarrassingly fast, “Or- yes? No, no, I think I meant no. No; I am very interested. Yes; I would like to get coffee with you,” There was a hint of shame in your words, but only a hint. After the day you’d had already, there wasn’t very much there to be ashamed of. Still, that same pit of dread began to open up in your stomach as you mulled over your choices.

Thankfully, Helmut continued to take it all in stride. “Wonderful! Is there anything else you’d like to do here before we go? It’s best we leave soon if we want to beat the rain,” He offered up his arm as he spoke like some sort of Disney prince. It was, by far, the cutest gesture you had ever been lucky enough to receive.

You linked your arm with his without hesitation. “As soon as I pay we can get going,” He was warm. It radiated off him in waves just like the warm hints of tobacco and wintermint that seemed to seep from his skin and clothes. With that, you made your way to the front desk as Hel shot you a sly smile.

“Who said anything about letting you pay?”

True to his word, he didn’t let you pay for a single thing for the rest of the afternoon.

The two of you made your way up to the cashier together, and Helmut only separated from your side to grab his wallet before you could grab yours. He then spoke in rapid-fire Sokovian to the lady at the register and pulled what could only be described as a wad of Sokovian koronas while you set the book on the counter, and from the looks of it, she seemed more than pleased with the two of you. Who wouldn’t be, especially when Hel seemed to insist that she keep the excess? In the end, after the book had been wrapped nicely in a paper bag and deposited in your backpack, Helmut held the door open for you like some sort of gentleman and followed you out into the grey afternoon.

Then, you were off down the street on Hel’s arm, pushing through the wind and the biting chill that had settled in the air.

“So, you don’t sound like a big fan of your dad,” you asked, half laughing as you attempted to broach conversation once again.

Helmut groaned beside you. “My father is a menace who is unable to understand that some people want more in life than to sit behind a desk all day making phone calls. In fact, most of my family is the same way. The only reason I haven’t completely cut them off and changed my name is the money,”

“I assume you get a lot of it if it’s worth sticking around someone you hate so much,”

“Never ask a man about his net worth,” he chuckled, gently elbowing you in the ribs, “but yes, I’m very comfortable. I have my own apartment just far enough away to be considered off-campus with my own car and as much money as it takes to keep me happy and getting good grades; Daddy makes sure of that,” The word daddy was a deep sneer, barely there in the wind, but something about it sent butterflies through your stomach. Well, that was never something you thought you were into… “Little does he know, I’m not here to make money. I’m here to find inspiration worth my time while out from under his thumb,”

You snorted softly. “Artistic and rich? You’re just ticking all the boxes, Hel,”

“Good for me. Would offering help on that essay of yours endear you to me further?”

“Absolutely,”

The next 5 minutes you spend discussing the Epic of Gilgamesh. Surprisingly, in one of the first stokes of good luck you’d had all day, Helmut seemed to be one of the only people on earth who knew plenty about Enkidu off the top of his head. When he was the one lecturing you in his smooth, heavily accented timbre it was so much easier to pay attention to something so very tedious than when you heard it from your aging and often monotone professor. In fact, you were so enthralled by his retelling of the tale that you barely noticed you’d made it all the way to the cafe that sat across from the international dorm.

If you didn’t consider Hel to be smart as a whip and twice as clever as he was smart, you would have thought it was a coincidence. It couldn’t be though. No, there was no way anything was a coincidence with Helmut around. You shot him a smile when he opened the door for you and ushered you inside.

“You know Hel,” you muttered, “I’m starting to think you might know more about me than you initially let on,”

He shrugged. “You’re American, so it’s unlikely you live anywhere else and I wanted to make the walk home easy. It’s supposed to rain, you know? Besides, despite the… interesting waitstaff, they make the best pastries in town right here in this cafe,”

“Did you mean it when you said you were paying?”

“Absolutely,”

“Then I can’t wait to try one,”

The two of you were seated quickly (you assumed it had to do with the waitress finding Hel as hot as you did, because you caught her looking at him from behind the counter and whispering excitedly in Sokovian to her coworker at least twice over the course of the meal) and the conversation flowed easily as you waited on your coffees and the deserts Helmut insisted on splitting to let you try. Millefeuille, pear tart tatin, chocolate devil’s food cake, and a towering plate of apricot kołaczki awaited you, and they kept you sitting and talking and snacking for over an hour as you really got to know each other. The more you learned, the more you fell in love with the man across from you.

Over the course of the afternoon, you learned that Helmut was majoring in studio art while minoring in psychology just because it interested him, he hated the Beatles almost as much as he hated Freud’s theories on women, his favorite color was purple, and he spent most of his free time reading or getting high off his ass in his massive studio apartment in what you now knew was one of the most expensive areas in the city. He, in return, sat at rapt attention across the table as you gushed about your life in America, your reasons for going to university in Sokovia, your favorite books, and the ridiculousness that was trying to pass college-level classes in a country that seemed to avoid English at all costs.

Eventually, though, you did touch upon his nickname.

“I just thought it was really interesting that you did the same thing every single day, no matter what,” you explained, grabbing one of the last kołaczki from the plate and ignoring the powdered sugar that stuck to your fingers, “and by watching you… I don’t know, I guess it kind of felt like I had another friend who’d share breakfast with me in the morning if that makes sense,”

Hel nodded, swallowing his last bite of chocolate cake. “I understand completely. It can be lonely, coming to a new place without any friends or connections, but you were brave enough to take the leap. I admire that,” He brought his napkin to his lips before crumpling it and setting it one of the now empty plates before him, “But I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed that you didn’t watch me because I’m attractive,”

You nearly choked on your pastry. “Well, I wouldn’t say your pretty face didn’t help…”

The grin that spread across his face was heartstopping. He grabbed a napkin from the little holder next to the two of you and grabbed a pen from one of his pockets as he spoke. “In that case, you should join me tomorrow morning. Bring coffee if you can, I never have enough hands to bring a cup for myself, but even if you can’t bring some, if you want to come and watch me work I’d be more than happy to have a companion for the morning,” he paused for a moment, flustered, “or every morning, for that matter,”

“That sounds like a deal,” Your cheeks were hot, but not from embarrassment this time. No, it was anything but, because here you were across the table from a kind, attractive, intelligent Sokovian boy with money to spend and time to spare for you. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud too. He wanted you back, after all. You could see it in the way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than he should, and even more plainly in the way he wrote his phone number in bold blue ink on the napkin and signed it with a doodle of a heart before passing it across the table to you.

“I’m going to go pay,” he said quietly while standing, “but I’ll be back in a second to walk you out. Alright?”

“Alright,”

There was something strangely similar to sorrow sitting in your chest when you watched him walk away. The sight of his ass as he went made up for it, though. Once he was obstructed by other patrons, you turned your attention to the napkin in your hands. Hel’s handwriting was neat as far as artists’ handwriting goes, but it still held a sort of looseness in its curves, a freedom in the way the numbers had flowed effortlessly from his pen. You popped the last kołaczki in your mouth as you admired the blue ink before devouring the final bites of pear tart and millefeuille. How had you gotten so lucky to have someone like him giving you his number and buying you pastries? You pondered the bizarre nature of it all until Helmut returned.

You stood quickly, folding the napkin and putting it away in your pocket. “Ready to go?”

“If you are,” he replied. In an instant, you were standing beside him again as he opened the door for you. The wind was even stronger now, strong enough that his loose hair whipped wildly around his forehead from the force of it. You couldn’t help but giggle at his appearance.

He caught you off guard as he walked you across the street. “You have such a pretty laugh,”

It was like you were seeing him again for the first time. You fiddled with the strap of your backpack as you got closer and closer to the door to your dorm. “Thanks. I’m pretty fond of your laugh too,”

Then, you were there, just two college kids standing awkwardly before your first departure.

“So,” you said before you could stop yourself, “when I tell my one friend all about this afternoon after my math class tonight, should I say it was a date?”

Hel’s cheeks flushed pink. “You can call it that, if that’s what you would like it to have been,”

“I think I would,”

“Good, good,” he let out a little chuckle, “I’m glad. Would you… would you consider going on another? I promise I have much more to offer than just small talk and tips on where to buy the best pastries,”

Looking into his brown eyes, so full of uncertainty and hope, you knew you couldn’t have denied him even if you wanted to. Still, you weren’t going to give in to his advances without a little bit of taunting. It made it fun, a game to be played where, hopefully, you both would win big in the end.

“That depends,” you teased, letting your lower lip catch between your teeth, “what do you have in mind?”

Helmut shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels, pensive. “If you want to, we could go to my place and I could actually show you all of the paintings I’ve been working on while you watched me. The view from the rooftop is lovely too. We could have dinner up there while looking out over Novi Grad. I have to warn you, though, it’ll probably be takeout. I’m an atrocious chef,”

Slowly, a brilliant smile spread across your face. “Does Friday work?”

The smile Helmut shot back was as bright as every star in the night sky and even more enthralling. “Friday is perfect. Can I pick you up at 7?”

“As long as you come in that fancy car you were talking about,”

“Then it’s a deal,”

“Well,” you turned away, walking up the steps towards the door before turning back to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Hel, and I’ll bring coffee. Have a good night,”

“You too, Y/N. Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that,”

With that, he gave one last short wave before turning on his heel and pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. You watched him walk away until he turned the corner and disappeared from view. Only then did you enter the punch code and race up the stairs to your room.

Your back was pressed to the door of your dorm room the second you had shut it, your hands clutching at your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your heart from beating right out of your ribs. The second you were in the privacy of your own place, your cool facade had melted away to reveal just how much of a wreck you really were.

He had invited you over to his apartment.

He liked you.

Easel boy really, honestly liked you.

No, not easel boy. Helmut. Hel.

Hel liked you, and he invited you over to his apartment, and you had plans to meet him with coffee as he painted the next morning.

You smiled softly under the fluorescent lights and pulled the book that had brought you together from your backpack. It seemed so unassuming now, just a fresh paperback with an unbroken spine, but in reality, it was so much more than that.

Hel.

It was such a nice name. You liked it a lot.

Now you couldn’t wait to see what else you liked about him too.

------

a/n: I have been so excited to start sharing this AU with you guys, and it’s finally here!!! If you liked this fic, I once again will direct you to Bliss by @creme-bruhlee because that’s technically next in chronological order for this AU. I hope you enjoyed!!!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 , @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @avgravy , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade, @alanathedeer , @your-pixels-are-showing , @shit-post-things , @bbarton , @sux-ubus , @halefirewarrior , @janelongxox , @rax-writes , @mossybank , @simsiddy , @xxspqcebunsxx , @be-cautious-around-bri , @metaphorical-love-for-a-car , @frothonthedaydreams

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #fanfiction

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

Hi, I saw ur post about requests closing soon so I figured I’d give ya another, but it’s okay if ya don’t get to it anytime soon since you have so many!! Can I request Yandere Suga and Daichi with a fem! darling who’s oblivious to them, and they both maintain the image of friends in front of others but they’re actually fighting each other for your love, but then you start dating someone else and they both team up? I 💕 your writing so much, I’m excited to see what you do 😌

Yes of course bby! Hope you like it 💕

Daichi Sawamura x female reader, Sugawara Koushi x female reader

TW implied non-con, slight nsfw, manipulation, abuse of power (kinda), minor violence, mentions of grief

Tug O’ War

You meet Daichi first, on the outskirts of Miyagi thanks to a blown tyre and a dead phone battery. It’s just after nine pm and you’re ready to resign yourself to abandoning your car and hiking the rest of the way when the police cruiser pulls up, and sitting behind the wheel is Officer Daichi.

Sawamura, he tells you on the drive into town.

“So I take it you’re not from around here?” he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

There’s a small smile adorning his face, but you know he’s just being polite, trying to break the somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Truth be told you don’t mind the quiet. With his radio playing quietly in the background, you’re still trying to sort through your thoughts, prepare yourself for what’s waiting for you when you arrive.

But that’s not his problem, and you don’t want to be rude, so you shake your head with a faint smile of your own. “I am actually… or I was, I guess. I moved away after high school.”

A lone eyebrow quirks, “Oh yeah? So what brings you back to Miyagi then? Family?”

Fingers twist in your lap.

“… Something like that.”

Maybe it’s because of the nerves eating away at your stomach, or maybe it’s just been a while since you’ve been back, but the drive to your sister’s house feels like it takes longer than it should. Daichi makes easy conversation the whole drive, and by the time you pull up out front of your old childhood home you find yourself glad of the temporary reprieve.

“Thank you. For the lift, I mean,” you tell him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he lifts your suitcase out of the trunk and passes it over to you. “I would have been up for one hell of a walk if you hadn’t come along.”

He grins down at you, laughing not unkindly, “It is kind of my job, but you’re welcome. I could hardly leave you stranded, now could I?”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can speak a word the front door of the house is thrown open and a tiny figure barrels out onto the front lawn. You have a split second to brace yourself before impact, tiny arms wrapping around your middle, “Auntie!!!”

A bewildered Daichi watches as you smile (genuinely, perhaps for the first time that night), ruffling the boy’s hair. “Hey buddy, how’s my favourite little man?”

Glancing up, you spy your sister standing in the open doorway and your smile fades a touch. Your nephew’s already excitedly chattering, blissfully oblivious to the situation - a minor miracle in and of itself - as he eagerly tugs you back up towards the house.

It’s only when you’re halfway up the driveway that you remember Daichi.

A glance back over your shoulder confirms your suspicion - he’s still standing there, watching the odd display with a slightly confused expression, though to his credit he manages to quickly school his features back into something a touch more befitting an officer of the law when he realises he’s been caught.

“Thank you again, really. I appreciate it. You’re kinda my hero tonight.”

He nods, and it might be a trick of the dim light, but you swear you see his cheeks flush pink, “Anytime.”

Just as he promised, your car is picked up by a local towing company the very next morning before you’re even out of bed. The tyre is replaced without too much fuss, but when you go to pay, the mechanic simply shakes his head and tells you it’s all been taken care of.

You make a mental note to swing by the station and thank Daichi (again) in person.

***

It’s only fitting, you suppose, that you meet Suga a few days later.

Thursday’s your sister works late, which leaves you to pick your nephew up from school. You’re thankful that they’re already aware of the situation, nobody questions why a veritable stranger is passing through the gates - at least, not after your nephew perks up at the sight of you, shouting your name as he hastily tries to shove his arms through his backpack. In his excitement he almost trips - would have tripped - if not for the silver haired man who catches him before he can stumble, setting him right with a shake of his head.

“Please slow down, Daisuke. You’ll hurt yourself,” he chastises gently.

Your nephew pouts, and you can’t help but chuckle a little as he ducks his head in shame as you approach. “Hey bud, did you have a good day?”

Hazel eyes regard you curiously as your nephew clings to your legs, nodding before burying his face into your side.

“You must be Y/N,” the man - Daisuke’s teacher you can only assume - says as he straightens up.

Considering your nephew had all but screamed it across the courtyard, there’s not really a need to confirm it, but you nod anyway, accepting his hand when he offers it.

He’s tall and handsome - though maybe handsome’s the wrong word. Pretty, maybe - his features are soft and delicate, with long eyelashes and eyes you could quite easily lose yourself in, truth be told.

“His mother told us you’d be coming by every now and then to pick him up. It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Sugawara, Daisuke’s teacher.” He pauses, biting his lip for a moment before exhaling quietly. “I’m sorry, by the way, about…”

You’re quick to wave him off, ignoring the painful tug in your chest, “Please, it’s- I-I’m not… It’s fine.”

It’s very much not.

Even as you say the words your hand finds its way to Daisuke’s hair, stroking it gently as his grip tightens. You’ve never been good at dealing with grief, your own or anybody else’s, but you can’t stand the platitudes - even those with the best of intentions.

Sugawara frowns faintly but he doesn’t push you and desperate to change the subject you force a smile on your face, “So, you’re the famous Suga I’ve heard so much about! He absolutely adores you, you know? You’re almost all he talks about at home.”

He laughs, and just like that you feel the tension in the air dissipate. “Oh, is that so? I guess I could say the same about you. I’ve heard nothing but ‘auntie Y/N’ all week.”

Your cheeks heat, and you gaze fondly down at the boy still clinging to your side. “He’s a good kid.”

Daisuke chooses that moment to pipe up, launching into a detailed recount of his day, much to your and Suga’s mutual amusement.

And neither you nor Daisuke notice that while you’re engrossed in his retelling, Sugawara’s pretty hazel eyes are focused on you, a soft smile playing across his lips.

Thursday afternoon pick ups quickly morph into Tuesday, Thursday and Friday afternoon pick ups as well as Monday morning drop offs, and you don’t mind one bit. For one, you know that your sister appreciates it more than she lets on and you would do anything to make this even the slightest bit easier for her, and it gives you a bit more time to spend with Daisuke, which you’ve missed more than you care to admit.

Also because whenever you do stop by to pick him up, Suga - Koushi, as he keeps insisting you call him - makes it his personal mission to strike up a conversation, whether he’s out there supervising the kids or not.

He’s friendly and warm and has a surprising habit of making you laugh at the most unexpected things, and you can’t help but find yourself being reeled in by the silver haired man. It doesn’t hurt that Daisuke thinks he hangs the moon in the sky, but there’s just something about Suga that’s… easy.

He doesn’t push. Doesn’t poke or pry. You still have a few friends in Miyagi, but the conversations inevitably end up circling back to what happened and how you’re holding up. You don’t blame them, you know they’re only worried about you, but it’s exhausting. Suga’s a breath of fresh air, and you hadn’t realised how desperate you were for a friend who didn’t know all the grizzly details.

Though being Daisuke’s teacher, he undoubtedly does.

But Suga seems content to pretend, until the day you arrive sniffling, eyes rimmed in red and unable to muster your usual smile.

That’s when the facade breaks, and he takes you back inside the classroom away from all the prying eyes of the other parents and lets you fall apart on his shoulder. You should be mortified, but you suppose that Suga’s probably uniquely equipped at dealing with emotional outbursts, considering he spends his days surrounded by six year olds.

“He was like my big brother,” you whisper after a while, your voice shattered and raw. “I miss him so much.”

He doesn’t say a word but his grip tightens and he hums quietly, and that’s enough.

***

A week after you get settled, you swing by the local police station with two coffees in hand and timidly ask the uniformed officer sitting at the front desk if Daichi’s around. The man looks at you, looks at the two drinks in your hands and grins a little too widely.

“Good ol’ Daichi, eh?” he winks, “Yeah, he won’t be back for a while. Can I help you with anything, ma’am?”

Your cheeks burn. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering he’s a police officer and all, but it does and you feel like an absolute idiot. Of course you should have checked before coming, but even if you’d had the foresight to do that, it wasn’t like you had his number.

Thankfully the other officer takes pity on you after you explain why you’re actually there, promising to let Daichi know you stopped by, diligently taking down your number to pass along as well.

True to his word, it’s hours later - well into the afternoon - when your phone lights up with a notification. Several, in fact.

Hey Y/N.

It’s Daichi.

Sawamura.

Srgt. Mokoto said you came to see me today?

Is everything okay??

The corner of your lips quirked up, and you get the sense that Mokoto had likely neglected to tell Daichi the real reason you’d dropped in, probably to make him sweat.

Hey :)

Yeah everything’s fine.

I brought you coffee as a thank you for the other day! Which I maaay have drank myself when you weren’t there…

But let me make it up to you! I can drop by the station if you’re around on wednesday at all?

The reply comes quickly.

Absolutely. 10:30 work?

You shoot back a quick reply confirming and toss your phone on the couch with a sigh.

It buzzes again a moment later, but the text message waiting for you isn’t from Daichi.

So a little birdie tells me you’re back in town.

***

“You know, you really didn’t have to bring me coffee. I meant what I said, it’s part of my job. My boss would have had my ass if I’d just left you stranded there like that.”

You glance over at him with a wry smile. “Yeah? And paying for my new tyre and the towing, is that part of your job too?”

Daichi’s cheeks flush pink and he almost chokes on his sip of coffee. “Ah.”

‘Ah’ indeed. “So considering I doubt you’re going to let me pay you back-”

He lifts a hand to stop you, shaking his head adamantly, “Not a chance. I know the guy who runs the garage, he owes me a favour. It was nothing, really-”

“Then coffee is the least I can do,” you say with an easy shrug. “But I know you’re busy, and I don’t want to keep you too long-”

Daichi’s hand - warm and rough - reaches out to close around your wrist, stopping you before you can stand.

“Stay,” he says, dark eyes glimmering.

***

You’ve forgotten, having spent the last few years living in the heart of Tokyo, just how small a town this really is.

You’re standing out by the school gates watching Daisuke run around with his friends when Suga decides to broach the subject.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Hmm?” You glance up to find him watching you with that same fond if not mildly exasperated expression on his face. It’s not his fault, not really - you’ve just been a little out of it the past few days.

Thankfully, Suga doesn’t hold it against you, chuckling. “Tomorrow night - are you free?” he repeats.

Your eyes widen a little, cheeks warming. “Um… well I kinda have a… thing earlier, but I should be free by then. Why?”

A silver eyebrow lifts. “A thing?” he prods.

“Just a thing. Why are you being so nosy all of a sudden?”

Suga laughs again, “Well if you’re not still tied up with your thing, I’m having some friends over for drinks for my birthday. You should come.”

Which is how you find yourself standing nervously out the front of Suga’s apartment, a bottle of wine in hand.

When you knock, however, the person who opens the door is not the one you’re expecting. Tall, broad shouldered and handsome, out of uniform for the first time since you’d met him-

“D-Daichi?”

The brunette stares, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

“I, uh… I’m- is Suga… Is Sugawara here?” you manage to stutter out, fighting the urge to fidget under his gaze.

His brows furrow, an odd look passing over his eyes, and for one awful moment you think you’ve somehow managed to screw up the address. But before you can embarrass yourself further, a familiar head of silver hair appears behind his shoulder, slapping him on the back.

Relief washes over you. “Suga! Happy birthday!”

Pushing a still somewhat bewildered Daichi out of the way, Suga’s quick to wrap you up in a warm embrace - which takes you by surprise - with a grin. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your eyes flicker back to Daichi for a split second, and Suga’s follow. He’s more observant than most give him credit for, but even the most oblivious would have a hard time not noticing the blank expression on the brunette’s face - or the way he was still staring at you. “You two… know each other?” he asks, ignoring the teasing and impatient shouts coming from inside the apartment.

Finally, Daichi snaps out of his stupor. “Yeah. We met the night she moved back into town.”

“Which is a polite way of saying that my car basically imploded and he saved me from having to hike all the way back to my sister’s,” you correct, and Daichi huffs in amusement, though he doesn’t disagree. “Suga teaches my nephew,” you tell him, answering the unspoken question written across his face. “I didn’t realise the two of you were friends, though!”

The two share a glance over your shoulder.

“Yep.”

“Small world, I guess.”

You laugh, passing Suga the bottle of wine, allowing Daichi to lead you inside with an innocent hand on your lower back.

There’s a decent few people squashed into Suga’s modest apartment, but somehow you manage to find yourself sitting around his coffee table, Daichi’s arm slung over the back of your seat, Suga sitting opposite you both, discussing - of all things - high school sports.

“Volleyball, huh?”

You can kind of see it. They’re both tall and in great shape - you’re pretty damn certain the muscles Daichi sports aren’t just for show - but it’s more than that. You tilt your head, chewing on your bottom lip. “What school did you say you played for?”

“Karasuno,” Suga says.

It takes a moment for it to click - though you blame that on the drink in your hand that Suga’s dutifully kept topped up - Karasuno… the flightless crows. Ah yes.

A slow smile creeps across your face.

“I saw you play once.”

Both men’s eyes widen, “You did?” Suga asks.

“Yep. The guy I was dating at the time, he played too.” You almost laugh when you glance up to find Daichi frowning at your side, an unexpected tightness in Suga’s usually easy going smile, “It’s okay,” you reassure them, ignoring the traitorous flutter in your stomach, “you guys won. It damn near broke his poor heart.” Not that he’d ever admitted as much out loud.

There’s a short silence, then-

“What team?”

You do laugh at that, “Don’t you think you guys are a little past high school rivalries?”

The ex-captain and setter meet each other’s eyes. Neither speak a word, but something utterly indecipherable passes between them, and when Daichi finally breaks it to glance back at you, there’s a sharp grin plastered across his face.

“Nope.”

You shake your head, feeling like you’ve missed something.

***

Hours later, fresh from a steamy shower, you stumble into bed and grab your phone from the nightstand. Sure enough, two unread messages are waiting for you.

You looked so damned pretty today.

Are you gonna let me take you out to dinner now or am I gonna have to get on my hands and knees and beg?

You smile into your pillow, quickly typing out a reply.

I don’t know, you used to be pretty good on your knees.

Your phone lights up a moment later, a familiar ringtone playing out.

***

Life gets busy after that.

Suga mentions that Daisuke is struggling in class, so you decide to join some of the other parents and volunteer as a ‘class helper’ one afternoon a week. Dai beams whenever you show up, and Suga seems eternally grateful for the extra set of hands - even if it’s just for craft time.

And just when you think you’ve managed to patch one hole, another appears. Miyagi might be a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, it’s not immune to the low life creeps that used to hang around your old apartment block in the city - you’re mugged walking back from the store, a bag of groceries for dinner in arm. The guy only hits you once, a blow to the cheek that sends you sprawling to the ground, grabs your bag - the one with your phone and wallet - and runs.

Your sister almost bursts into tears when she sees the cut on your lip, and it’s guilt more than anything else that swells through you when she spends the next twenty minutes berating you for not being careful enough.

You know she doesn’t mean it, you know she’s just scared. The promise falls from your lips before you can stop it, but it’s worth it you think, when her face relaxes and she pulls you into a tight hug.

But when you drop by the station the next morning, Daichi takes one look at you, and you watch in perfect slow motion as that warm smile freezes and falls. You expect the police report he makes you file, though you don’t really hold that much hope that they’re going to get your phone or wallet back, but not the words that come out of his mouth next.

“Self defence classes? Daichi, I...” you exhale with a huff, “don’t you think that’s a little excessive?”

The dark look in Daichi’s eyes as they flicker across your face tells you otherwise. “What if they had a knife, or a gun?”

You would have just thrown your bag and run, you weren’t stupid - your purse wasn’t worth your life, but Daichi doesn’t want to hear a word of it.

“What if your wallet wasn’t all he wanted?” he presses, and you stiffen at the implication. Gentle hands reach across the table to grab yours, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against the back of your palm, “Just you and me, two hours a week, that’s all I’m asking.”

… What now?

“You’re going to teach me?”

“You got somebody better in mind, sweetheart?” he asks with a cocked eyebrow and a wry grin.

It makes sense, you suppose - what with him being a police officer and all.

And between your one on one sessions with him, volunteering at the school with Suga, making sure that Daisuke got to school on time, that the house was cleaned, there was food in the pantry and your sister wasn’t falling apart, you were running on fumes.

Yet when you come home exhausted and aching from Daichi’s place and catch sight of him, casually leaning against your doorway with a bag of takeout and that damned smirk you’d fallen head over heels in love with all those years ago, you can’t help but grin.

“Hey, baby. You hungry?”

Thank goodness for small mercies.

***

They’re more observant than you give them credit for.

Suga notices the way you gingerly stretch to put away the paint supplies one afternoon.

Daichi catches an eyeful of a bruise on your neck as he hovers over you - the makeup you’d used to hide it having rubbed off with the last manoeuvre.

Suga catches you checking your phone more often, smiling softly to yourself.

Where Daichi used to be able to coax you into staying back for a drink, you were quick to finish up and head home, claiming to be tired and hungry. You don’t take him up on his offer for dinner either.

But the final nail in the coffin came in the form of a drawing.

“Dai, who’s that?”

Suga’s crouched by his desk, gazing oddly at the picture your nephew had drawn. The task was simple - draw your family. Daisuke had dutifully done just that; him, his mom, you, and-

“Auntie’s new boyfriend.”

Suga’s eyes snap to yours and you curse your heart for skipping a beat. “I didn’t know you were dating anybody.”

***

Daichi’s fingers tap restlessly on the leather of the steering wheel.

He was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago but when the call came in, he didn’t really have a choice but to answer it. She’d asked specifically for him after all, and even if she hadn’t, the Sergeant would have tossed the case his way regardless.

Mokoto knew how he felt about you.

Spending an hour and a half sitting in your living room while your sister sobbed wasn’t exactly how he’d planned on spending his afternoon, but he supposed it came with the territory. He knows how to do his job properly, though. Listening, asking the right questions, offering sympathy without promising results - it’s nothing he hasn’t had to do before.

“Please Daichi, she- she’s all we have left, I… I can’t-”

It didn’t mean he wasn’t aching to leave with every second that passed.

Of course, it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Through her tears, your sister did manage to give up the name of the guy you were fucking.

A name he certainly recognised from way back in high school. He knows he’s going to enjoy pursuing that particular lead, but as he pulls his car into the driveway and switches the motor off, Daichi shoves the thought aside.

He has other, far more pressing matters to deal with.

His heart thrums like hummingbird’s as he walks up the pathway, nodding politely at his elderly neighbour as he passes.

The sight that greets him inside his living room makes the wait worthwhile.

You, on your knees, stripped down to your pretty, lace underwear, arms cuffed behind your back and your plush lips wrapped around his best friend’s cock.

With his long fingers carefully carding through your hair, Suga coos at you between breathless moans, praising you for being such a good girl for him with every roll of his hips. You’re shaking, trembling as silvery tears spill down your cheeks and when he drops his wallet, phone and keys on the bench and kicks off his shoes, your wide, pleading eyes turn to greet him.

Daichi’s cock stirs in his pants, a rush of excitement and something much, much darker and more primal flooding his veins.

Noticing that he no longer has your full attention, Suga’s eyes follow yours. “You’re late,” he says with a lazy smirk.

Loosening his tie, Daichi huffs out a laugh, “And I see you didn’t bother waiting.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere Daichi #yandere Suga #yandere Daichi Sawamura #yandere Daichi x reader #yandere suga x reader #yandere sugawara #yandere sugawara koushi x reader #yandere Daichi Sawamura x reader #my writing #yandere fic #tw non con #tw abuse of power #tw minor violence #tw manipulation

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yuekeiji · 3 years

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being childhood friends with keiji and him realising he's in love with you at the sweet age of fourteen but being too shy and anxious to ask you out, so he just decides to stay quiet about his feelings for you and continues to act as if butterflies didn't swarm his stomach every single time you smile at him.

one day he catches you staring lovingly at kuroo and his heart shatters when he realizes you like the older and taller nekoma team captain and not him. he's your best friend and he should not get upset over you liking someone, so when you two are cuddling and watching a movie and all you can do is rant about how handsome and intelligent kuroo is, he just pushes back his feelings for you and teases you about your little crush on his friend.

and one day when you're both out of high school and you come home to your shared apartment crying because you learned from kenma that kuroo got a girlfriend, he just can't stop himself from holding your body close to his and stroking your hair softly to calm you down as you sob into his chest. he presses small kisses against your temples and forehead, mumbling about how everything's gonna be alright and that he can beat kuroo's ass for you if you want (you both know he would lose the fight but it's the thought that counts)

the next day you wake up in keiji's bed, cuddled up to his chest and when you look up to check if he's still asleep your heart skips a beat because goddamn you never realised how beautiful your best friend is. his long lashes are resting on his cheekbones, his little button nose looks, oh, so boopable, his lips are parted and pink and his cheeks look so cute especially when smushed against the pillow he's laying on. you shake your head slightly and go back to sleep because there's no way in hell you just really thought about smothering your best friend's face with kisses.

when you wake up again, there's a scent of sugar in the air and you walk out of keiji's room to the kitchen where pancakes are placed on the counter, along with strawberries and a still warm cup of tea. you bite down your bottom lip to hide your smile as you read the small note he left you, saying he had some stuff to go buy and pick up, and that you should enjoy the meal he made you and watch your favorite movie while you waited for him to come back. you happily oblige and eat what the teal eyed boy prepared for you, your favourite movie playing on the television.

he comes back later that day and sees you asleep on the couch, the plate and cup empty on the living room table. he walks up to you and crouches down in front of you, placing a strand of hair that was covering your face behind your ear. he presses a kiss against your forehead and looks at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, whispering about how much he loves you and how long he's been in love with you and how he would treat you so good if you were his'. little did he know you were in fact awake and wanted to prank him, but now that he was proclaiming his love to your sleeping form, it felt a little bit inappropriate to yell in his face to jump scare him.

the next few days are... awkward. you really try to act normal but whenever keiji looks at you or touches you you shy away which you've never done before, and it leaves him wondering if he did something wrong for you to look so uncomfortable around him. you just can't bring yourself to tell him that you... might like him back a little..? it feels so wrong, he's your best friend, you shouldn't feel this way about your best friend... and then you remember how you always rambled about kuroo to him and you feel so bad because if what keiji said to you is true, he's just been listening to you talk about how in love you were with another boy??

you're overthinking your whole life, laying in your bed when keiji walks in without knocking and come sit on your bed. you look up at him with a questioning look and he lets out a small sigh before asking you if he did anything wrong for you to ignore him the way you've been doing. you see the small pout on his lips and the bags underneath his eyes which means he hasn't been sleeping well, most likely overthinking everything he's ever said and done to you. you hate seeing him like that and being the sensitive being you are you tear up and throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you let out everything you've been holding in.

how you were awake when he said all those things to you, how you almost kissed him while he was asleep, how you think he's really pretty (even prettier than kuroo), how you didn't like when he dated this one girl for two weeks when you were both thirteen, how you can't let him touch you because your mind wanders somewhere dark when he does, how you think you might have always loved him but you just didn't think much of it because he's your best friend and it's normal to love your best friend, right?

keiji is stiff, not moving at all as you tell him everything. he feels like his brain is about to short circuit because his pretty best friend who he's been in love with for almost six years is... confessing? he's not quite sure but he's overwhelmed and all he can do is hold you close to him, oh so tenderly, as if you were so fragile you could break at any moment. once you're done talking, you guys stay like that, holding each other, not speaking, afraid of each other's reaction.

he pulls away from you slowly and looks at you in the eyes, his face bright red as his stare falls down to your lips. you swallow the lump in your throat and nod your head once, your eyes fluttering shut as keiji leans in and presses his soft lips against your pouty ones. you feel his hand press on your cheek as he kisses you shyly, his other hand resting on your hip, bringing your body a little closer to his'. he slightly pulls away to breathe, his forehead pressed against yours as he smiles softly. you feel your cheeks heat up but it doesn't stop you from pressing your lips back against keiji's, with a little bit more force this time, your arms wrapping around his neck to bring him even closer, your chest flush against his'.

after making out for a few more minutes you pull away and bury your face in the crook of his neck shyly. you feel him kiss your temple before he starts giggling quietly, finding your situation quite funny. you punch his chest teasingly and start giggling too, because, in all honesty, it is quite funny. keiji lets himself fall down against your mattress, you still pressed against his chest. he runs his fingers through your hair and give you a wide smile, letting you get comfortable on top of him.

you stare back at him with big round eyes, your cheeks still red for the previous making out, and you start mumbling about how you want to take things slow and that you don't want to tell all your friends right away about you two dating. keiji's body tenses up under you before relaxing once again as you mention you two dating. he can't believe this is really happening, he really thought he'd live the rest of his life hiding his feelings for you, that he'd have to go to your wedding and watch you marry someone who isn't him, that he'd have to settle for someone who isn't you.

he nods his head as he listens to you, his fingers still playing with your hair, looking at you as if you hung the stars and the moon in the sky for him. he's so content, so happy to finally have you, to finally be able to call you his', to finally be yours.

#keiji just loves you so much #i'm in love with him #this is very self indulgent #akaashi #keiji #akaashi keiji #akaashi fluff #akaashi headcanons #akaashi oneshot #akaashi drabble #akaashi imagine #akaashi scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fluff

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

Seasons of Love - Chris Evans x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this idea would not leave my head and i really like it so here i am writing it:) the years in the fic are according to chris’ birth year (1981). also, this is more chris centeric, which i haven’t really done yet and i liked how it came out, i’d love to hear your thoguhts on that if you have any! enjoy<3

Summary: the story of chris and you, told through specific seasons of your life. a fluffy (and a bit angsty) coming of age story.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: like one bad word i think, a teeny bit of angst

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Summer, 1998.

It was a special summer. Chris always knew he'd remember this summer forever. It was the first summer he fell in love.

"Summer is full of possibilities."

You and Chris just finished hiking a trail not too far from home, your water bottles nearly emptied due to the heat, your clothes slightly disheveled. Not too different than any other time you did that together.

The two of you were sitting down under a tree, watching the view, when you spoke that sentence.

"It is," Chris agreed. He turned his head to look at you and continued, "that's kinda awesome."

"Yeah," you said softly, still not looking at him, "but it's also scary as fuck." You chuckled dryly. "It's our last summer. What if we don't make the best of it?"

"It's not 'our last summer'," Chris chuckled, "it's just…"

"Our last summer," you completed with a grin once you saw he was struggling to find the words, finally turning to face him.

"Whatever," he laughed.

"What do you want to do this summer, Chris?"

He frowned slightly. "I'm serious," you continued, "what do you wanna do? Really."

"I don't… know. Same old, I guess?"

"See, that's why summer is so scary!" you turned your whole body to face him now. "It feels like in no time, our entire lives will be just 'same old'. And we'll have endless possibilities, but it will still be just same old! I refuse to admit I'm that boring," you huffed, "at least for now."

"So, what do you want to do this summer?" Chris asked with a smile, amused by your antics.

"Something remarkable. Something I can tell my children about and say, 'when I was your age, I did…' whatever it is we'll do, you know?"

"I guess," he shrugged.

"Okay, so what's something you've always wanted to do but never thought you could?"

He pretended to contemplate it for a second, and before he could open his mouth you cut in, "and don't say something like eat only candy for a week! Something real," you pointed two fingers towards your eyes and then to him, as if to indicate you're watching him.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender, "something real."

A comfortable silence stretched over the two of you as you both thought about it. In truth, you both knew the answer. It was as clear as the summer sky stretching out above you. But in your still teenage minds, it seemed to be as heavy as the noon heat.

When your eyes met his, you laughed softly. "I feel like we were thinking about the same thing, which is kinda stupid honestly. I mean, why wouldn't we ju-"

He swiftly leaned in and planted his lips on yours, the kiss only lasting ever so long before the smiles you both sported got in the way. Your eyes were still closed when you spoke, but you could feel Chris' gaze on you when you started, "yep," you finally opened your eyes and smiled, "definitely thinking about the same thing."

That summer was made of so many forevers Chris truly thought it would never end. Moments that seemed to stretch on in the most beautiful of ways, as if the universe was giving you her blessing, giving you time.

You knew each other so well sometimes Chris thought you were more in his head than he was. And every time he looked into your eyes, every time you laughed, every time he kissed you, every night you spent watching the stars, every day you spent at the beach, or at home, or really wherever, he knew that fear of yours didn't come true.

You two did the most remarkable thing you could've – you've fallen in love.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Autumn, 2000.

Autumn in LA was different than it was back home.

At home, his mom would probably be stocking up on candy for Halloween, and his siblings would be playing around with their dog in the fallen leaves, and he'd be forced to take a jacket with him even if it wasn't even that cold outside because people cared about him.

Not that in LA they entirely didn't, but it wasn't the same. Mostly because you weren't there.

You two talked a big game, sure, always making plans to meet soon. But with the both of you being so far apart, and being so busy pursuing your dreams, it never came true.

And when it finally did, after a while, it wasn't like it was that great either.

"I don't… I don't think we… this-" you fumbled over your words and sighed. "I don't want to hold you back."

"I know. I don't want to hold you back either," he sighed, rubbing your arm in a soothing manner.

You were laying on the couch, his arm around you, pulling you close, and really, it was a weird position to be having this conversation in, but at the same time, he kind of couldn't imagine it happening differently.

He understood what you were trying to say. He thought you were right. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt to hear it.

"I just… I don't think long distance works that well with us," you continued, and then sighed again. "Ugh, this is terrible."

"it kinda is," he chuckled quietly, and you slapped his chest lightly in annoyance. "You know I understand, right?" he said, more serious this time.

"I know. You know I don't really want to do this, right?"

"I know. But I know why you are."

"Good," you said softly. "My flight leaves tomorrow at 8, so we probably won't see each other in the morning."

"Okay," he replied, simply wrapping his arm tighter around you.

He didn't know if he dreamt it, but the next morning, in the early hours before the sun rose, you came into his room and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

"See you later," you softly whispered, and a few minutes later, the faint sound of the apartment door shutting reached his ears.

Fall at home was a fun time. Chris loved Halloween, loved watching the beautiful leaves fall, the world around him preparing for a winter's slumber. The air was crisp, the heat, on days when it appeared, wasn't as heavy, and the cold not that harsh. It was beautifully balanced.

Out here though, he started seeing fall not from an outside perspective, but, in a way, from a tree's perspective.

The beautiful leaves fell, and he couldn't reach them again. He was left to stand bare against the oncoming winter cold, a sight that to an outsider would seem impressive, a feat of the majestic strength only nature can possess.

To Chris, it just seemed lonely.

He knew it was a natural process, drifting apart. Just like the leaves falling, it was somewhat inevitable, wasn't it? high school sweethearts were too lucky to be true. But that didn't stop a small but powerful part of him to hope. A hope that didn't come true, and now, where did that leave him?

If autumn at home was balanced, this autumn was anything but. It was almost as if he'd lost an organ, a limb. He couldn't balance the way he did before, he'd have to find a new way, but for now, he just existed in the unbalanced. It consumed his mind, what could he have done differently? Could he have stopped this?

Of course, these questions can't really be answered. Not by him or anyone else. So, he'd grow that limb back. Spring would come, and the leaves and flowers would blossom again.

But that fall, you two fell apart. And in those moments, the bareness of winter seemed insufferable.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Winter, 2006.

Winters always seemed long to Chris.

As a kid, it was because he couldn't really play outside as much, his mother fearing he'd catch a cold. So, he was sentenced to long days inside, which were often very nice honestly, hot cocoa and warm blankets never in short supply. But kids sometimes can't help but want what they can't have, can’t they?

Well, that notion clearly never left Chris, even if he's not a kid anymore.

Winters were always long, but without you, they seemed longer than ever.

You talked on occasion. You come from the same relatively small town, so losing contact wasn't truly an option, especially because you used to be so close. People would always joke about you being a package deal, hanging out together so much it became second nature.

If Chris became too bored in his own house, or just plain tired of his siblings, it was the obvious thing to go to your house, and vice versa. Now, that refuge wasn't an option anymore.

At first, it was noticeable, like a gaping wound that wouldn't close that he couldn't help running his finger over, checking if maybe it healed already. Now, it was only a dull reminder of what used to be.

It's not like Chris didn't date. He did. And from what he heard (again, small town, friends from childhood. People always filled him up on what you were doing, even when he didn't ask.) you were dating too.

He really had no right to say that it bothered him.

You came up in his mind less and less, as time went on. But winters, being gray, and void of sun, full of storms, were always more introspective. That one especially, no one special really being in his life. Not that it wasn't fun, but he missed home, being grounded, happy. He was happy, in a way, just not the way he was used to.

It was full of contradictions, his mind struggling to make sense of his entangled feelings. You weren't there, and it hurt, but really it was so long since you've been there, and there's no one else at the moment, so was he just missing you or did he just miss loving someone the way he loves y- loved you?

The clean snow a perfect juxtaposition to his clouded mind, he decided to take a walk.

The streets were bustling as always, everyone walking around with a purpose, a destination in mind, which allowed Chris to slip between the crowds, unnoticed. He went to a coffee shop, got something hot to busy his hands with, and continued his aimless journey.

He ended up at a park, sitting down on a cold bench. He took a sip from his cup, wincing slightly at his still hot beverage, before sighing, closing his eyes for a split second before opening them again at the vibration of his phone.

Pulling his phone out of the pocket of his jacket, he held the cup carefully in his other hand as he opened the message.

Think of the devil. Although, you were anything but.

How are you?

Before he could type up an answer, his phone buzzed with another message.

I'll be in town in a week, thought we could maybe get a coffee, catch up. If you want.

He chuckled at the wording. Not a question, but a statement. Well, maybe there was some type of question there, between the lines, but to him, the answer was just as clear as the one to your question many summers ago.

Sure. When are you coming in?

Maybe, spring will be here closer than he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Spring, 2015.

Spring was the season of rebirth, the blossoms thriving once more, the weather warmer by the day.

You once told Chris spring was your favorite season.

"Really?" he asked, turning towards you, "why?"

"It's a rewarding season. It's like… for the entirety of winter, the trees were standing bare, the animals were confined to their lairs, more or less. And now, they've made it to see the beauty, the profusion. The next year, they do it all again, of course, but spring will always be there to show them it was worth it. Plus, the weather warms up, but not too much, which is a blessing. Especially to your sweaters," you joked, referring to the countless ones you'd pretty much stolen.

But Chris knew what you meant. The blossoms of happiness were spreading out across his life these days. Not everything was perfect, of course, but it was as near perfect as it could be.

"So, what do you wanna do for your birthday?" you asked next, surprising him with the sudden change of topic.

"Uh, I don't know. I haven't really thought about it," he shrugged. "but there's a while yet. Why, you had anything in mind?"

"Not really," you said, "that's why I asked. Anyways, think about it, will you?" you smiled and patted his shoulder affectionately before getting up, probably to put your empty cup in the sink.

He didn't know the answer to that. He had everything he could want and more.

There was something inexplicably comforting about spring. As a kid, springs always seemed like endings to Chris. The end of the school year, the end of a long winter. Only as he grew older he realized that springs are also wonderful beginnings. It was a fresh start, but also respected the past. It seemed to value the experiences of the past, yet prompting you to open a new page, giving the opportunity to start again.

Chris took that opportunity with both of his hands, especially when it came to you. Sure, every spring there would come the time of his birthday, but that was minor. Really, he celebrated you, all year but in spring especially.

Spring was the season of going to concerts together, you laughing at Chris as he's doing his best not to get recognized in his cheesy disguise of sunglasses and a hat. It's the season of going on spontaneous picnics because, "look how beautiful it is outside, Chris!", and he can't tell you no about anything. It's the season of taking Dodger out for long, long hikes, so when he comes home he falls right asleep, usually in your lap. It's the season of going out in the afternoon and it's warm, but by the time you come back it's night and it gets chilly, so Chris gives you his jacket, teasing you about how you always forget your own.

It's the season of preparing for summer as well, going through the cabinets and moving the winter clothes to the back and the summer clothes to the front. It's the season of finally using the pool again, and inviting his nephews and nieces over as well, and watching you splash around with them, carefully of course. It's the season of remembering that first summer together, and how far you've come since, together and individually.

Growing up was never easy. Growing up together was insufferable sometimes. But you fought, and you grew, and you talked things out. Spring, in a way, resembled the fact that you could overcome anything. Even after the harshest winter comes spring in all of its glory, blossom and vibrant colors.

And so, you two set out for one more great spring, and everything that will come after it. Summer was full of possibilities, but together, these possibilities didn't seem all that scary anymore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

please tell me your thoughts<3 and stay hydrated besties!! btw, i opened a taglist for only chris & his characters fics so tell me if you’d like to join it / move taglists or really whatever you want to tell me i love talking to people:))

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash

Chris & co. taglist: @patzammit

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff

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seylumdarklight · 3 years

Text

Cold (Corpse Husband X Reader)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! As a gift, I present this story as a present. I apologize for any grammar and spelling errors, I had been trying all day to finish this but my family seem to make it there mission to keep me from working on it. I hope that everyone has a safe and wonderful holiday! Pairing: Corpse Husband X Reader. Fluff fluff Maybe the cold wasn’t so bad. _______________________________________________________________ It was safe to say Corpse was a Cali boy. The sunny, warm city of San Diego has been his home for all his life. The only differences in the seasons were that the temperature dropped about ten degrees in fall and winter. Corpse was west cost boy through and through. You, however, came from the northeast United States. Hot, sunny summer days on the beach and cold, snowy winters were the beloved memories of your childhood. You loved the orange and reds that painted the trees in fall and the colorful flowers that sprung up in spring. The changing of the seasons was a hard loss when you moved to the west coast. You were okay with it, you had amazing friends and a wonderful loving boyfriend but the holidays didn’t feel quite the same. You were a little down when you say the Christmas decorations and the temperature were in the high sixty. There had always been the idea of going home for the holiday but you didn’t want to leave Corpse alone. No one should spend the holidays alone and you two had spent the holidays together since you first moved to the west coast. Your family had been asking for you to bring this wonderful boyfriend you mentioned so much home so they could finally put a face (and name) to the man and what a better time than the holidays right? As much as you wanted to, you always turned down the invitation and idea of going back home for the holidays. Traveling was stressful, especially when it was to another state. Add on the stress of the usual stress of the holidays and meeting your family on top of that and you worried. Corpse already had a bit of a hard time going outside and you didn’t dare put that kind of stress on him. You were content with spending the holidays in your little apartment with Corpse. That was until he brought the idea up himself. “Are you sure you are okay with this?” You asked for probably the thousandth time. The two of you were getting ready to head to the airport. Suitcases were by the door and you were doing one last check around the apartment before you left. You figured that it would be best to get an overnight flight because they were less likely to be crowded and less chaotic. Your question had been one that you had asked over and over again. “For the hundredth time, I’m perfectly okay with this, Y/N.” Corpse said, hiding his shaking hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “It’s too late for us to cancel anyway.” Tucking the envelope with the tickets into your purse, You walked over to Corpse and looked into his eyes. After two years of dating, the two of you were pretty good at reading each other. You could see his anxiety was through the roof but Corpse was trying to keep a brave face for you. Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. His breath fanned against your neck and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I love you, Corpse. If you don’t feel okay with this, we don’t have to go. My family will understand.” You told him as you pulled back slightly. Corpse tilted his head down slightly, gently pressing his forehead against yours. “Honey, I want to do this.” He said before kissing your forehead. “I’m curious to see where you grew up and meet your family. You’ve done so much for me, Let me do this one thing for you.” You blinked away the tears that were threatening to fill your eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone as wonderful as you.” You said. A grin spreads across Corpse’s lips and he chuckled. “I wonder the same thing every day. Come one, we better go before we’re late.” Stealing one last kiss from each other, the two of you locked up the apartment and headed downstairs. Corpse felt your hand slide into his, warm fingers lacing with his cold ones, and gave it a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, smiling softly. His nerves and anxiety were still pretty high but with you by his side, it didn’t seem so suffocating. ________________________ It was cold. Really cold. Corpse groaned slightly as he slowly woke up, his body aching slightly. The familiar warmth and scent of vanilla told him that it was you cuddled against his side. Out of habit, he lifted a hand and ran it through your hair. With his other hand, he sluggishly felt around on the side table for his or your phone. He grabbed it and brought it close to check the time. The brightness of the screen made him flinch and let out a mumbled curse as he fumbled a bit to turn it down. Once he managed to do it, Corpse saw that it was three am. Well, he had managed to get at least a few hours of sleep. The two of you had been at your parent’s house for three days. It hadn’t been bad. The plane ride and meeting your parents had been the most stressful. His hands couldn’t stop shaking and he had been breathing a little faster than normal but you managed to keep him grounded. You never let go of his hand, constantly reminding him that you were there. Your family was very welcoming. Your mother had wasted no time to break out the baby albums and show Corpse the pictures of younger you cover head-to-toe in the mud with a bright grin on your face. Your father had been prepared to give Corpse the whole “Protective father talk.” but one look at you and Corpse’s intertwined hands and the way you were towards each other, he knew that his daughter was in safe hands. You couldn’t be more ecstatic that your parents love Corpse and you could slowly see Corpse relaxing around them. A sudden chill ran down his spine and Corpse held you a bit closer. The cold was one thing he was not a fan of. He was from San Diego. The lowest it ever got there was in the fifties and when you two-step off the plane, it was freaking thirties. It sucked! He pulled the blanket up higher, trying to salvage some of the warmth underneath. It made his body ache, his nose runny, he could feel the tips of his fingers or his toes and it was just...cold!! Looking towards the window, he noticed something. He shifted a bit to get a better look. Outside, in the soft yellow glow of the streetlights, snowflakes slowly danced down to earth. It was a steady flurry, not too light yet not a huge snowstorm. Corpse watched the flakes descended from the sky. He had never seen snow in real life before. “It’s pretty isn’t it.” Corpse looked down to see you awake and watching the snow with a sleepy smile on your lips. “When I was younger and I knew it would snow, I would stay up to see the first flakes fall from the sky. There something about seeing those flurries that just makes me happy..” He hummed softly, fingers lazily running through your hair. You melted slightly as you turned your head to nuzzle him. A smile tugged on his lips and he pressed his face into your hair. You were right in a way. While it didn’t give him the excitement you mentioned at the moment, maybe because it was late and/or he was still overly tired from being. However, watching the snowfall in the warm, yellowish glow from the nearby streetlight and having you snuggles against his side sent this calmness over him. He closed his eyes, pulling you close. You had already drifted back to sleep, a content smile on your lips. For a moment like this...maybe the cold isn’t so bad. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I think its pretty decent for having been slightly rushed. If anyone wants to be added to a future tag list, let me know. Now I’m off to bed. Merry Christmas to all and too all a good night.

#corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x reader #corpse x y/n #reader instert #corpse husband #merry christmas

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illeee-girl · 2 years

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You Infire Me Chapter One: Back in Town

You're a senior in college, about to finish up and escape the small town of Hunsaker, West Virginia forever. You've also got intense anxiety bubbling up within you, threatening to pull you apart at the seams. Your last fall semester has come, and it's time to engage survival mode. But after you and mysterious Min Yoongi are forced to share a bench outside your small town's only café, he keeps popping up in your life—and you find you have more in common than you thought. Your senior year might just be the year you've been waiting your whole life to live.

yoongi x reader genre: fluff, some angst word count: 2.8k warnings: discussion of mental health

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“Her early impressions were incurable. She prized the frank, the open-hearted, the eager character beyond all others. . . . She felt that she could so much more depend upon the sincerity of those who sometimes looked or said a careless or a hasty thing, than of those whose presence of mind never varied, whose tongue never slipped.” —Jane Austen, Persuasion

The warm, late summer breeze smells of grass and fresh rain. It travels into your car and makes its way through your hair. You’ve got one hand on the steering wheel, while the other hangs out the open driver’s side window. The drive back to campus in the fall is always one you enjoy: after a summer of living at home, you’re ready to be on your own again.

Well, “on your own” is a relative term. Your childhood best friend-turned-college roommate, Bianca, sits in the passenger’s seat of your old Toyota Camry—and she has a way of constantly reminding you that you’re never, ever alone.

“So, for our senior year, I’m thinking we should go all out. Brand new outfits. Back-to-school brunch. And boyfriends.” In your peripheral vision, you can see that she’s holding up three fingers. “The three B’s!”

You roll your eyes. “You know, for a high school valedictorian studying neuroscience, you can sound an awful lot like an idiot sometimes.”

She crosses her arms. “And for someone who loves breakfast food, you can be awfully cynical about brunch.”

You let out a laugh as memories of your high school trips to Denny’s flood your mind. (And, even though you just ate a bunch of crap from a roadside fast-food joint, you find yourself craving a Grand Slam.)

“We don’t need to pretend like this year will be anything special, B.” You sigh, checking your ETA. Just ten more minutes, you think. “Just because it’s our last, doesn’t mean that all of our hopes and dreams will come true. All it signifies is that we’ll have to work extra hard to finish strong. And prepare for our futures.”

Bianca lets out a robust groan. She can be so theatrical sometimes, you silently complain. “Speak for yourself, Y/N,” she holds up a finger, “but new clothes, breakfast food, and a boyfriend don’t constitute ‘all of my hopes and dreams’. Instead, consider identifying them as ‘healthy distractions for Bianca, who’s about to get into med school or die trying.’”

“You’ll get in,” you assure her as you flip on your blinker and begin to pull through a right turn. “You’re the smartest student at Hunsaker.”

“Hmm, yes. I’m the smartest student at our tiny West Virginia college. That makes me a shoo in.”

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Oh, no, Y/N, thank you, but of course I’m not the smartest student at Hunsaker. That’s you.”

She laughs. “I don’t subscribe to society’s rules of lying as etiquette, Y/N. I love you, but anyone majoring in English Literature is definitely not the smartest person in school.”

“Some friend you are,” you joke. You both laugh for a minute.

Soon, you stop. Bianca continues talking.

But you can’t really hear her over the sound of your own thoughts.

She’s right. You’re not smart. At all. Your program is easy compared to hers, and you still don’t get all A’s. You’ve never been able to deliver on that 4.0 you promised your parents. You’ve barely kept your scholarship. You’ll probably lose it after this semester, and you’ll have to drop out. But what would it matter, anyway? You won’t be able to get a job even if you manage to get through this year and graduate. Your degree is useless. You’re useless.

Useless useless useless.

“Y/N? You there?”

Bianca’s summoning snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You look at her.

“The light’s green now,” she points to the traffic signal ahead of you. “You can go.”

“Oh. Right.”

Useless. Pay attention.

As you grow closer and closer to campus, the excitement within you bubbles over, shoving those previous thoughts down into the deep, dark recesses of your mind—the storage space that never gets cleaned.

Cutesy banners that read “Welcome Back, Students!” have been draped across the narrow lanes of downtown Hunsaker, West Virginia, the tiny mining town adjacent to Hunsaker College’s campus. It was once somewhat of a metropolis back in the early 1900s (well, as metropolis-y as a town in West Virginia can get); but as the coal industry shrunk, so did Hunsaker. Now, your school, Hunsaker College, was the only thing keeping it alive.

The town of Hunsaker has about five streets, with Main Street being the only one worthy of being called a "street." (All of the others feel more like "lanes.") It feeds travelers from highway 92 directly into the mouth of the college’s entrance, and features the only amenities Hunsaker has to offer: a pizza place, a general store, two competing gas stations, a BBQ joint, a café, a family-run Urgent Care, and the local grocery store.

Despite being a college town, Hunsaker doesn’t even have a bar. For many of your peers, it was a hellhole their parents banished them to.

For you, it had become home.

You pull off onto 9th Street (misleadingly named, seeing as how Hunsaker definitely does not have nine streets) and park outside your and Bianca’s tiny apartment complex. You turn off your Camry—which you’d creatively named “Cam”—but not before you pat her gently on the steering wheel and tell her how good of a job she did getting you there.

“You treat this car better than you treat me, and it’s ridiculous,” Bianca comments as she thrusts open Cam’s passenger door and runs over to greet your other two roommates, Tristan and Vivian, who’d seen you pull up. You perch your sunglasses on top of your head and smile and wave at them.

Tristan walks over to help you unpack Cam’s trunk. “Welcome back,” she smiles, offering you a warm hug. “Long day, huh?”

You roll your eyes and smile. “You have no idea.”

“I was stuck with Bianca in a car for that entire spring break trip to Florida, Y/N. So I do have some idea.”

Somehow, you and Tristan manage to bring all of Bianca’s stuff inside before she’s done telling Vivian all about her summer. Next, you unload your bags and a couple of cardboard boxes stacked in Cam’s back seat, which you labeled “19th c. Brit Lit,” “American classics,” and “Chinese novels.”

“All books?” Tristan marvels.

“Unfortunately for my weak arms, yes,” you wince at the weight of the box bearing your translated Chinese novels. “The used bookstore was really good to me this summer.”

“Please tell me they paid you in money, too.” She smiles.

You laugh. “They did. Don’t worry.”

Soon enough, your side of the room becomes an explosion of books—hardbacks, paperbacks, thick ones, thin ones, copies in terrible condition, and copies in excellent condition. You revel in the sight and find yourself with no desire to tidy it up.

One book in particular catches your eye: Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s one you’ve read plenty of times before—and it’s the novel you’ll be reading for your senior capstone course this semester. Its cover is purple and simple and inviting, and it feels so good in your hands, and it smells so good, and it’s not all that long.

So, in a moment of sheer genius, you decide to ignore the rest of the unpacking you have to do, and opt to go read Persuasion at the café back on Main Street.

__________________________

It’s mid-September. The air is probably still a little too warm to be sipping a chai tea latte that isn’t iced, but that doesn’t stop you from doing so. Plus, the barista behind the counter is a new hire—probably a freshman—and you don’t know if you can trust her yet with anything more complicated. You toss a five-dollar bill into her tip jar, knowing that freshman Y/N would have appreciated it tenderly. Luckily, your current job at the library pays a lot better than your café one ever did.

The inside of the shop is packed, with every seat filled by students savoring their last bit of freedom before the start of classes. The aura feels chaotic to you, and you can’t exactly put your finger on why. Maybe there’s a wider gap between you and the incoming generation of freshman than you thought? (Many of them are wearing clothes and speaking slang that you don’t understand.) Maybe it’s just the sheer amount of people and, by extension, germs?

Gosh, I sound like an old person, you think. Let’s just go outside. You accidentally brush up against a tall, muscular guy with a tragically incomplete mustache. You mutter your apologies, but not before a girl in dark sunglasses almost knocks you to the ground while trying to get to the counter to pick up her drink. It’s okay, you tell yourself. I’ll be fine. I’ll make it outside. Just breathe. Wait—don’t breathe. You’re too close to too many people. You’d be sharing air and germs with all of them. You slowly nudge your way to the door. Just go outside. Go outside. I feel like I need to go outside.

You push the door open, but first-year whippersnappers litter the tables on the patio, too.

Ugh.

You walk a few paces so that you’re not blocking shop’s entrance, unsure of what to do or where to go.

But then, you turn your head and notice an empty bench.

It’s comfortable-looking, on the smaller side, and at least six feet away from any other living, breathing, talking being.

Perfect.

You make your move as fast as you can, but before you can sit down, you collide with a guy—a perfect stranger—and come face-to-face with his chest.

You push away. Your eyes snap to the stranger's face, observing his expression of surprise painted on a canvas of perfect, porcelain skin. A mop of dark hair covers his forehead and threatens to curtain his eyes, which are also dark—and unbelievably deep. He’s . . . well, he’s not bad looking. Let’s put it like that.

But you’re too close to him.

You both step away from each other at the exact same time, looking down and muttering profuse apologies.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, adjusting your glasses with one hand and gripping your book with the other. “Did you want this bench? You can have it; I can head on home–”

“No, no, you can have it,” he says, still not meeting your eyes. “I was going to leave in a few minutes anyway.”

“No, you can have it. Sit. Please,” you plead.

“No, no, you sit. Really,” he insists.

Silence ensues for a moment.

Well, if he’s not going to take it . . .

Then, as luck would have it, you both sit down at the exact same time, hips and thighs colliding in a way reminiscent of your bodies' first meeting just seconds ago.

“Oh, sorry–” he says.

“No, I’m sorry,” you interrupt. “I misunderstood. I’ll get going . . .”

Just as you plant your feet to stand up, you notice that he’s carrying a copy of Persuasion, just like you.

“Hey!” You exclaim, a little more excitement in your voice than usual. “I’m . . .” you lift up your book. “Me too.”

He lets out a half-chuckle. “I . . . don’t read romance. Well, not on my own. This is for a class.”

“Oh, yeah. Mine is too,” you backtrack.

“Cool,” he says, fidgeting with his hands a little. “Well, um, as long as we’re both here . . . I don’t see why we can’t share the bench. It fits both of us just fine.”

“Yeah,” you agree, your discomfort paling in the face of your desire to just read and enjoy your dang coffee. “Why not.”

So you both crack open your copies of Persuasion, and start reading.

You read in silence.

And you keep reading in silence.

For a while.

A long while.

I’ve never sat this close to a guy before, you think. Our knees are almost touching.

Before your thoughts can travel down another long, winding road of panic and speculation, you decide to do something courageous: talk to him again.

“I meant to ask you earlier,” you begin, lifting up your head. “What class are you reading that for?”

“Just a 300-level lit class,” he responds, his head remaining where it is, his face remaining an unwavering statue of indifference. “A general requirement.”

“Oh, nice.”

“You?”

“My senior capstone. I’m a lit major.”

“Hmm,” is his only response.

“I get that a lot,” is yours.

“What does that mean?” Now he looks at you.

“When I tell people I’m a lit major, they don’t often react with excitement,” you explain. “It’s the typical ‘useless college degree.’”

“I would argue that that depends on the person obtaining the degree,” he turns his gaze back to Persuasion. “If you’re not useless, it won’t be useless either.”

Then it’s too bad I’m useless, you think.

“I guess you’re right,” you say. He says nothing back, and for some reason, you have enough courage to venture further: “So . . . what are you studying?”

“Music production,” replies Mr. Stone-faced.

“Oh, that’s interesting.” You turn your eyes back to your book, because two can play at the I’m-more-interested-in-British-literature-than-you game. “I didn’t even know Hunsaker has that.”

“It’s . . . new.” His voice carries some sort of disguised emotion. Strangely intriguing, you think to yourself.

Who is this guy?

“What’s your name, by the way?” You ask, because now, you must know.

“Um . . . Yoongi.”

“I’m Y/N. You didn’t ask, but now you know.” Ugh, you had to say it like that. Normal people don’t say things like that. I always say the wrong things. Now he’ll think your weird.

It took him a second, but . . . he laughs.

He’s laughing at me?

“That was funny,” he spurts in between cute giggles. “Sorry.”

He thinks I’m funny?

You can’t help it. You start to laugh too.

Finally, you gather yourself enough to say, “Sorry about that. Super savage things come out of my mouth sometimes.”

Yoongi’s gaze turns away from his book, and it lands on you. “I . . .” His voice trails off a bit, as if rediscovering fond memories. “I get that.”

You smile. He smiles. You adjust your glasses, and he fidgets with his hands. A light breeze blows across the pages of Persuasion, making you lose your place, calling your attention back to the task at hand. You and Yoongi both turn back to your books, but you can’t focus on a single word. Instead, your thoughts dwell on the sound of him breathing beside you.

You’re close enough to hear him breathe. That means you’re too close.

t’s okay. He’s nice. He even smells nice. He’s not gross at all.

Doesn’t matter. Your personal space has been compromised. Your bubble has been popped. REMOVE YOURSELF FROM THE SITUATION IMMEDIATELY, AND COMMENCE RECOVERY CYCLE.

Ridiculous brain. I don’t need to recover from anything. People spend time around new people all the time, and they’re fine.

Those new people are STRANGERS. They’re STRANGE. Strange is BAD. REMOVE SELF FROM CAFÉ’S OUTDOOR BENCH NOW. GO HOME AND TAKE THREE SHOWERS.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi, I just remembered I have to help my roommate unpack her stuff.” You stand up, tossing your coffee cup into a trash can. “She’s a minor hoarder, so it’ll take us at least the rest of the evening and all day tomorrow. But it was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you on campus sometime. Goodbye.”

Well, that was the quickest removal of self I’ve ever seen, your brain offers a compliment. It would clap if it had hands. Good job.

“Oh . . . okay,” Yoongi mutters, his expression turning into one of slight disappointment.

You walk away.

One step. Two steps. Three steps, four.

You hear him stand up behind you.

“Um . . . Y/N?”

You turn around. “Yeah?”

“Do you . . . would you help me read this book sometime? English isn’t my first language, and literature definitely isn’t my strong suit. I wouldn’t take up too much of your time, just an hour or two after class one day. And I’d buy you food for your trouble.”

“Um . . .” Well, this is new. “Sure. Why not.”

He pulls out his phone, and you type your number into it.

“Cool,” he says. “I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” you reply, taking another good look at him. His skin really is quite pale, but it’s also flawless—much more flawless than any college student you’ve ever seen. His eyes are a gentle almond shape, and his nose is adorably round. And his lips . . . well, they’re the most perfect pair of lips you’ve ever seen. Almost perfect enough to make you forget that hot, humid air from gross human innards passes through them tens of thousands of times throughout the day.

He begins to say something else, but then you’re reminded of how speaking is just breathing but worse and more disgusting.

So you tell him, “Goodbye.” And you walk away, back towards 9th street.

#BTS fanfiction #BTS fanfic #Min Yoongi #Min Yoongi fanfic #Min Yoongi fic #Suga fanfiction #Sufa fanfic #Sufa fic #Campus crush Min Yoongi #College Min Yoongi #Min Yoongi fluff #Min Yoongi angst #Yoongi x reader #Yoongi fluff #Yoongi angst #Suga x reader #Suga fluff #Suga angst #You Infire Me

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krnsluvvie · 3 years

Text

look my way!

summary: you’re in love with one of your best friends, great. the fear of rejection and despair bring you to the very edge of cowardice and before you know it, you’ve lost him to someone who was a bit braver.

pairing(s): iwaizumi hajime x reader, platonic matsukawa x reader, platonic oikawa x reader, platonic hanamaki x reader; Seijoh 3rd years besties w reader (basically a friendship fic with angst in the background lol)

genre: angst, fluff, crackheadassery

word count: 8.7k

warnings: unspoken feelings, reader is a coward, gratuitous amount of hugging for no apparent reason

a/n: GRRRRR i hope you’ll enjoy reading!

( *L/N = last name, F/N = first name)

masterlist

───────────────────────────────────

The grand doors to the Aoba Johsai High School barely scrape your elbow as you run through the gap straight to your class, running late and soaked in the rain.

Morning was pretty eventful to say the least - not only had you wrongly set the alarm (somehow changing AM to PM) and completely forgotten to do some revising, but you also had not checked the forecast beforehand to prepare yourself for the brutal attack of raindrops that came your way. Bothered? Perhaps, but you couldn’t afford a walk back home for the umbrella, for you’d be more late than you already are.

As you set foot into your classroom, everyone turns their head towards you, all kinds of expressions visible on their faces — from astonishment to disgust - all of it and all in-between.

You simply ignore their gazes as you take a seat behind the only person you’re relatively close to — Iwaizumi. You both share a friend circle: there’s Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s childhood friend whose annoyance pushes all of you onto the edge of a cliff, Matsukawa and Hanamaki whose jokes and presence make your life a little bit brighter. As much as you love all of them equally, there’s a different feeling when it comes to Iwaizumi. It was felt back then and it is felt now. And frankly said, you don’t really know where that leads you.

You and Iwaizumi talk sometimes - although it revolves mostly around schoolwork (as you both have the exact same classes). But it’s enough for you. It always is. Your friends pointed that years ago - how you seem to ‘favor’ him. You smacked the back of their heads.

“L/N,” Iwaizumi turns around to greet you, only to be met with a frown and wrinkles across your forehead… oh, yes, and the badly camouflaged dark circles that lay beneath your tired eyes. You’re standing there, messenger bag draped across your body, your hair wet and the droplets dripping all over the uniform jacket.

Before neither you nor Iwaizumi could say anything, the teacher enters the classroom. You raise your hand almost immediately and excuse yourself to the restroom. He quirks up an eyebrow at you and upon noticing your horrendous state, he curtly nods. You were quite lucky to have him arrive a tad later than usual.

Now that you’re standing in front of the mirror, you notice just how horrible and indecent you look. You subtly shake your head and wash your face under the running tap water, not caring if it would wash off the half-assed attempt at masking fatigue. It was snippets like this when you realized how grateful you are for the times your mom still had the urge to wake you up at exact hours repeatedly, every day; it became your habit. So, it was the hunch, the inkling that something wasn’t right when your alarm didn’t go off like it normally would. You jerked up so fast it could’ve given you whiplash.

The universe seemed to hate you and you knew it. But somehow still, your luck has pushed forward and through, and instead of being soaked wet from top to bottom, you ended up with only the upper part of your body. The weather must’ve had mercy on you as well, as it started raining half-way on your way to school.

You splash your face with water. Over and over, and over again. It won’t alleviate the heat when you think back to your luck. You might be lucky… but not in the ways you want to.

---

“I heard your morning was rough,” is the first thing Oikawa says to you as you enter the gym. Why you thought becoming a manager was a good idea is beyond you. You thought of quitting numerous of times but then there was this small voice in the back of your mind telling you to just ‘suck it up and enjoy it while you can’ (with the addition of ‘it’s the last year with your friends before you part ways’ that has been bothering you for some months now). You were holding on because you didn’t want to let go of them completely, not yet. It might’ve been only 3 years since you’ve gotten to know them, but the way they’ve grown on you is just baffling. Baffling, yet plausible.

You set your mouth in a straight line and nod regardless.

Oikawa’s teasing smile disappears from his face, “Did I say—”

You sharply inhale and shake your head. “It’s all good. If you need anything, just call me or something.” Oikawa catches your wrist before you can go any further and looks you deadly in the eyes. You hate this look so much because it’s a way of getting information out of you (in your case, it’s your love life that they love to interfere in for no apparent reason). “Is this about Iwa-chan again?”

As if on cue, Matsukawa and Hanamaki appear by each of Oikawa’s side and look at you expectantly. Cool, what are you supposed to do now? Lie? “Of course not. I just really had a shitty morning. You even said it first.”

“Okay,” Oikawa hums. You notice how both Matsukawa and Hanamaki are staying eerily quiet. “And you were avoiding him for what reason, then?”

Of course you weren’t going to lie?! Because they would have called your bullshit out anyway. “I wasn’t avoiding him…” Oikawa sends you a glare and you subconsciously wince.

“I just needed some time figuring stuff out, I think.”

Matsukawa puts a hand on your shoulder, “L/N, how long have you liked this guy?”

“Imagine liking Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki butts in. Oikawa fist bumps him and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Are those really the ones you’ll be spilling your guts to regarding your love life? Crazy shit.

“Uh, um, since first year, I believe?” You might’ve told them that you had a crush on Iwaizumi but you never specified since when and how big of a crush it was.

When those words rolled off your tongue, you knew that it barely was a crush anymore.

And it seems like the guys knew it, too - you could tell especially by their widened eyes. You check the time on your left wrist and leave no room for any of them to comment anything by yelling, “Practice starts in 10!” And so, you shake off the grasp Oikawa had on your wrist and get into the ‘indifferent L/N’ mode.

You notice Iwaizumi making his way into the gym, changed into his sports clothes and you can’t help but feel the fluttering slowly increase in your stomach. Why is it so intense today? You accidentally lock eyes with him and you turn your gaze away so fast you would have snapped your neck.

---

Practice felt insufferably long. You noticed the team’s improvement as a whole, except —as much as you don’t like to admit it— Iwaizumi who seemed a little bit more aloof than usual. His spikes, though, were as powerful as ever, you noted. As you shouldered all the necessary bags and helped the team with cleaning the equipment, Iwaizumi tapped on your shoulder, sweat trickling down his temples. His cheeks were reddened from all the jumps and spikes. “Can we talk later? I’ll… wait for you.” You widened your eyes. Your mind was screaming at you to say No, or even some type of excuse - as long as you didn’t have to face him. Much to your dismay, “Yes,” was what you let out while walking forward to the exit to the secretary. You couldn’t afford looking at him directly, who knows what would happen then, had you had stolen a glance.

On your way back to the gym to retrieve your belongings, you met Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki by the exit. You sent them a glare and went past them. “You shouldn’t waste your time. Do it while you still can.” Oikawa said as he left. Matsukawa and Hanamaki sent you a sympathetic smile before following right after him. “You’re not waiting for Iwaizumi?”

“He said he was gonna talk to you!” The thought of strangling Oikawa felt just right at the moment.

So, this is it.

Iwaizumi is looking anywhere but at you. Honestly said, if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve deemed him as the silent and shy type of guy who would shut his mouth rather than voice his own opinions. But, you do know him better and you know that’s exactly what he’s not and, you can’t help but feel envious at the thought - he was never the type to not call out any of you guys’ bullshit.

So, it doesn’t surprise you when you hear him say, “L/N,” you sharply inhale. “Is there something wrong? Or, like, did I do something wrong?”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth. You want to blame all the feelings on him; it’s his fault for being the way he is, his fault for acting the way he does, his fault for making you fall head over heels for him - a fact you never dared voicing out until recently. Ultimately, you shake your head and say, “What makes you say that?”

Mental facepalm.

Iwaizumi laughs, you can’t really tell if he meant it or if it was done out of a sarcastic manner, “Hm, aside from avoiding me all the classes and glaring at the back of my head all day, I don’t think anything in particular happened.”

You let a small smile overtake your features. “Oh, well, I did have a shitty morning. But at the same time I don’t want to blame it all on it and I’m sorry it came out the way you perceived it, and-”

Iwaizumi catches you by your shoulders and looks you so tenderly in the eyes you feel like melting from it. You look away as he says, “L/N, you’re ranting.”

You steal a glance at him and notice how his hair is messy from practice and how his cheeks are still pink-dusted. You slowly feel the redness wash over your own cheeks and you ignore the warmth that leaves you when you push Iwaizumi away. “You dumbass, you didn’t do anything wrong, so it’s all good.”

Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side. You sure? You nod and make your way towards the school gates. “Iwaizumi,” you call out, “I glare at you every single day. I’m baffled you realized now!” He catches up to you and ruffles your hair.

“Oh, you’ll be regretting those words.” He slings an arm over your shoulder as you two walk the same path home. Your heart beats a little louder and you internally berate yourself for that. You keep reminding yourself that the boundary between you two must be visible. And even if you crossed a millimeter, you’d be sure to compensate for it - whether that took lunch break spent under the bleachers, or missed practice because you ‘felt sick’ that day.

You were a coward. You were such a coward.

---

Three months later, you’re found in the library with Matsukawa. He needed help with explaining some school stuff you understood and thus, how your study date was born. You prop your chin in the palm of your left hand, the other hand twirling with a pen you found in your pencil case. You look into the distance and your gaze lands on the huge bookshelves, and you wonder if you could find an interesting book to read.

“- do I use a comma here or not?” Matsukawa asks. You hurriedly turn to him, your face softening as you ask him to reiterate the question. You knew it was probably a bad idea to stay after school and help your friend - since you’ve been unfocused and grumpy the whole school day; this session would only add more fuel to the fire. But, then you thought back to all the times when he helped you and you felt bad for not doing anything in return.

“Uh, let me see,” you say as you grab his textbook to go over the sentence he was struggling with. Matsukawa immediately retrieves the textbook from your hands and, with a puff, closes it. Not so softly.

“L/N,” Matsukawa sighs, you notice how his hands are folded atop the textbook. “Just why are you doing this to yourself?” His voice is soft despite what he’s said. “Mattsun, we’re not here for—”

Under the intense stare he gives you, you recoil and say, “I mean, he’s going out with someone already, no? Why would I ruin that now?”

Matsukawa massages his temples and looks you dead in the eyes, his hands clasping over yours. “L/N, you’re being ridiculous now. Just look at how miserable you are!” He fixes his gaze elsewhere, the grip he has on your hands tighten a bit and you sigh in relief. He’s telling you he’s here for you. “It hurts seeing you like this, you know? The guys might not show it but, they’re hurting as much as you are. But you know it’s not our thing to say nor even our business to interfere in.”

You grin, “Fancy of you saying this while interfering in my nonexistent love life.”

Matsukawa snickers and lets go of your hand. “It’s not that nonexistent.”

You’ve always known that out of all the guys, you were a tad closer to Matsukawa. How it came to that point, you don’t really know but even without having to say it out loud, you both knew you could trust each other. You give him a smile and a reassuring nod. You’re here for him, too.

Later that night, you receive a message from Iwaizumi. The temptation to ignore it was so strong yet, somehow, you find yourself clicking on his contact and read over the message.

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> L/N! emergency! what do I wear on a formal date, the first or the second one? respond asap pls

You regret… You regret clicking on the message because it hurts - knowing there’s someone who can potentially make him happy, someone that Iwaizumi will come home to, someone that can be his forever. Above all, though, what hurts the most is that you brought all this pain upon yourself.

You look at the attached pictures: in the first one, Iwaizumi’s wearing a basic black suit, with a white dress shirt underneath the blazer and dark pants that reach above his ankles. The second is more ‘daring’ - he’s sporting a blue jean jacket with a hoodie beneath it and black jeans. You snicker at it, is this really what he considers wearing to the aforementioned formal date?

To: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

< iwaaaaa ur not serious about the second one r u?

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> Lmao who do you take me for? Ofc not!

To: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

< what was the reason then ?!?!!

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> Bored and wanted to talk to you.

Before you could respond, though, another notification pops up on your phone, signaling someone’s messaged you, or more like, the group chat.

From: Oikawa [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> lmaoooo yall heard? iwa-channn is going to a wedding. now place ur bets on how long it will take him to fuck sumn up

From: Makki [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> five dollars for less than an hour

From: Mattsun [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> Stfu (read: 5 bucks for less than two hours we gotta have faith in him cmon)

From: Iwaizumi [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> Just why.

Oh, this is the formal date? They must’ve gotten real close if Iwaizumi will be his date’s date.

You click on the chat with Iwaizumi.

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> And the guys, I guess.

Another message incoming.

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> Lol, don’t you just love jinxing yourself?

You send him laughing emojis. You two end up texting for some more minutes before that turns into a call and just hearing him talk about something that makes him happy is enough for you. You notice that whenever it comes to Iwaizumi, everything suddenly seems sufficient.

You both end up talking about miscellaneous things - one of them being his date. He tells you about how he met her (through Oikawa as the date attends the same class) and what exactly led to the point where they were now. You knew he was seeing someone but hearing it directly from him made you want to rip your hair off and yell slurs at yourself, and cry into your duvets and —

And what? You need to face the reality - you’re too late now.

“L/N?” Iwaizumi asks through the phone, his voice sounding weary and tinny. You rub your eyes and yawn. “Iwaizumi, we should go to sleep. I wouldn’t want to run late to tomorrow’s date!” You try to sound as cheerful as possible. Your voice cracked at the last bit but it seems that Iwaizumi brushed it off as drowsiness. “Right. Well, thanks for talking to me, dumbass.”

“Who are you calling a dumbass? Look at you, thanking your friend for talking to you. That’s ridiculous.”

“Look at the ungodly time, dumbass.” You do, the clock reads 2:32AM.

“Shut up, just sleep.” And you hang up.

You notice another message.

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> I meant it, L/N. Thanks

You smirk.

To: [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

< five dollars it will take less than thirty minutes

From: Oikawa [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> GASP game on b

A day after the date, you all gather at your and Iwaizumi’s joined desks. “So,” Oikawa starts, scrolling on his phone through the numerous posts. “Little birdie posted something and tagged Iwa-chan in it! Let’s see!”

Oikawa places the phone in the middle for everyone to see and clicks on her latest post.

The caption reads: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it took him 28 minutes to bang his head into the stand!’ Oikawa scrolls through the pictures where the said stand was not as straight as it should be. More pictures show him standing next to his date, his smile vibrant and eyes twinkling with happiness. You notice how Iwaizumi’s smile grows bigger each time Oikawa swipes to the left. It is a sequence where he and his date look at each other with so much adoration you have to bite the inside of your cheek to not break down right then and there.

“I can’t believe you dragged my girlfriend into this.” Oikawa visibly gasps, quickly stealing a glance at you and you dare say you caught the slight look of pity in the pools of his eyes. You look away. Even Hanamaki —who enjoys teasing the hell out of you— sends you a look of indescribable mix of emotions and you just brush it off by rolling your eyes at him. You can’t lie that the tears pricking your eyes aren’t present because oh, well, they are.

“Congratulations!” You find yourself saying a tad louder than you intended to. The three of them look at you with widened eyes, quizzical looks on their faces. You lock eyes with Matsukawa and you nod, silently telling him that you know, you know, you know.

The ambience in the classroom gets a little bit more suffocating. “If you’ll excuse me,” you say as you make your way towards the restrooms. Why can’t you just be happy for him? Why do you hold on to something so… trivial? Do you want to lose what you already have? You repeatedly splash water over your face.

I’m a mess, you whisper to yourself as you notice the puffy red eyes and run your hands along your cheekbones. You’re ready to curse the universe for treating you like shit because as much as you are aware of the situation, you don’t deserve to feel this way.

However, despite all of this, you know that in the end, you have no one but yourself to blame.

---

Seconds, hours, days, weeks go by and graduation seems closer than ever. Naturally, all of you have become more busy with preparing for the exams. As much as you hate to admit it, you miss them.

It felt good the first few days; you had them off your back and you didn’t have to deal with their bullshit you’ve grown accustomed to (for some reason, and very much to your dismay). But recently, you’ve been feeling empty and you haven’t been talking that much - though, not that you minded. Typically, you four would spend the sunny afternoons in your backyard, black-tinted sunglasses protecting your eyes from the scorching hot sun. You would stuff yourselves with too much ice cream, jelly sticks of all flavors and too many yogurt drinks that had no right tasting so good.

Once inside the house, Oikawa would lie on the table, fanning himself with the poor excuse of a textbook, Hanamaki and Matsukawa would solve like one and a half math problems and then rest on the table, too, cheeks pressed against the cold surface. Iwaizumi would prepare snacks and you’d help him with that.

You’d notice the way he talks so mindlessly when it came to the things he liked: it being volleyball or Agedashi Tofu. You’d play some music in the background as the two of you would work on preparing the snacks. You’d feel just how dangerously close you two are when he leans over your body to retrieve a cup from the shelf. You’d be hyper aware of everything and that was one of the things you loved and hated simultaneously.

So it was quite a surprise to get a call in the middle of your study session.

You slide to the right with your thumb, accepting the call. “L/N! My favourite person!”

“Cut the bullshit, Oinks. You need something?” You press the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you decide to cut up some fruit. “Actually, I don’t need anything.” You frown, then why did he call you? To waste your precious time? “I just wanted to let you know that the guys will be picking you up in,” a momentary pause, “like five minutes because we’ve missed you and you deserve a break from studying.”

You nearly yell at him but instead, you say, “I hate you.”

“Aw, I can feel the love!” You roll your eyes. Then comes silence. The sweet, bitter, hung-up-in-the-air silence that circles around you in vexing motions, driving you crazy.

“Look, about Iwaizumi’s relationship-”

You gasp, “Iwaizumi.” You mockingly repeat. Oikawa sighs on the other line. Right, no time for jokes. “L/N, his girlfriend makes him really happy. I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you don’t know either, “but I know you’re a good person and you wouldn’t want to ruin that. And, I know you hate people who pity you but I still feel the need to apologize-”

“You’re so embarrassing, I can’t believe you. Why should you apologize for something that was not even your fault?”

“Hm, kinda like a best friend’s duty, I dare say.” You laugh - this one’s legitimately genuine. “You can be, uh, bearable sometimes.” Oikawa guffaws so loudly you have to put your phone away from you to not get an ear-rape. “I’ll use that against you, ugly.”

“Just say you love me and go,” You jokingly say, not expecting the latter to say the words.

“Now, say it back,” he whines. All you let out, though, is an incomprehensible screech and a ‘See you there!’, and end the call.

Subconsciously, you might just have said them.

The doorbell resounds throughout the whole house and you run to the front door, peeping through the hole to see who decided to pay you a visit. You see Hanamaki and Matsukawa waving at you.

You open the door, the wind sending a refreshing swoosh to your hair and you smile upon seeing the two boys before you. “You look kinda scary when you smile,” Matsukawa says as you threaten to hit him with your palm outstretched. Hanamaki doesn’t seem unfazed by your antics as he asks,“Oikawa probably called you, no?”

You nod and get out of the doorway so that they can enter the house. “As usual, make yourself at home and you can steal some cut fruit in the kitchen.”

Five minutes later, you descend the stairs in your jogging pants and short-sleeved shirt. They didn’t tell you where you were going so you went with something casual yet comfortable.

Putting on your shoes, you lock the front door and catch up to the two that went ahead. You notice how both of them are wearing casual clothes as well - but unlike someone, they had the formality to at least wear jeans. You’re walking by Hanamaki’s left side, flanking him with Matsukawa on the other. “So, where are you two dragging me?”

Hanamaki turns to you and with a saccharinely sweet smile and elbows you lightly in the ribs. “It’s a secret~” You return the gesture with a little more strength than you wanted - hence, Hanamaki unintentionally pushing into Matsukawa’s side, nearly flying him into the fence of someone’s house if he hadn’t braced himself for the impact.

“Wow, L/N, if you’re mad, just tell us, damn,” Hanamaki rubs his ribs, dramatically hissing in pain. You roll your eyes but apologize regardless. “You good, Mattsun?” He nods at your question and you send him a contrite look of sorts.

“Is it just me or have you gotten a bit more aggressive?” Hanamaki nudges into your shoulder and you send him a questioning look - brows furrowed and a bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Huh?”

Hanamaki sighs, “I don’t know, ever since Iwaizumi announced his relationship or whatever, you’ve been tense around him… avoiding him, too.Us, too… kinda.”

You look into the distance, noticing a building that you know all too well, “You know, Makki, you seem to notice a lot of things despite your unattentive nature.”

“I am,” Hanamaki inhales theatrically, “offended.”

“As you should be, honestly.” Matsukawa elbows him in the ribs. Hanamaki turns to him, “Just because L/N hurt my ribs from the left side doesn’t mean the right side needs to be damaged, too!”

“You spend too much time with Oikawa,” You tsk, letting out an airy laugh.

“Don’t tell me we’re gonna have to sit through Oikawa’s karaoke session again,” You slap your forehead. You knew that the two boys you are currently with didn’t propose this idea - if anything, they must’ve been forced into this… as would be you and Iwaizumi. Of course. It’s a tradition after all.

“Yep,” Matsukawa shrugs. “But look on the bright side, you can yell whatever to appease your anger you’ve been bottling up.” You glare at him and he raises both of his hands up in mock-surrender.

Hanamaki catches your wrist and motions Matsukawa to enter the building first. He complies. “Listen, we just want the squad back on its good terms, so we’ll hope you’ll talk it out today.” You slowly nod, ready to take off to the building behind Matsukawa. “One more thing,” Hanamaki loosens the grip on your wrist. “Remember that Iwaizumi was a friend first before he was your first love.”

You stiffen. Were those the words you’d always needed to hear but they’d never occurred to you? Iwaizumi was a friend first before he was your first love.

Something clicks.

How could you have been so selfish; wallow in your self-pity, run in circles because all you could do was to remind yourself that this was your fault, your reality now? How could you have been so reckless, risking years of friendship on the line?

“You coming?” Hanamaki yells, palms cupped around his mouth. You nod, slowly reaching the building.

---

Five karaoke sessions (and a very enthusiastic Oikawa-singing) later, you plump down on the couch, wiping the perspiration off your forehead. It’s tiring - watching Oikawa giving his all to convey the right feelings into the song. You must admit, he sure is passionate; it’s almost as if you were watching him play volleyball - except with a mic in his hand instead that he wouldn’t throw around… hopefully.

As the song nears its end, you all let out a breath of relief, a mix of annoyance, boredom, and tiredness hanging in the stuffy air. You let yourself sink further into the sofa, hoping it could swallow you whole and erase your existence.

Okay, maybe you should tone down being so pessimistic.

“How was I?” Oikawa asks, eyes sparkling. His hair is unkempt from all the unnecessary movements he made during the climax of the song and his cheeks are painted a rosy hue - you note even with the flashing lights casting every color across his face.

You smirk, “Not bad.”

Oikawa frowns at your response, tightening his grip on the mic. “What do you mean ‘not bad’? After everything I’ve done for you? I see how it is, you’re gonna hear me sing again—”

You steal a glance at Iwaizumi. You notice how he’s staring at the door, probably wishing he were anywhere else but here. Hanamaki comes into your line of sight and you motion him to do anything to catch Iwaizumi’s attention, thus Hanamaki getting buried alive as he slaps the back of Iwaizumi’s head. He glowers at Hanamaki, already rolling up his sleeves.

Hanamaki points in your direction and you catch Iwaizumi’s green eyes that glisten a little bit brighter in the excessively flashing-lit room. With your thumb, you point to the exit and he nods, a look of relief washes over his features.

Once outside the suffocating room, you inhale the fresh air. Summer is just around the corner and even though it was your favourite season, you can’t help but indulge yourself in the chilliness before it changes its course for the next three months.

“Uh, good day, yeah?” Iwaizumi shoves his hands into his jeans’ front pockets, admiring the gravelly ground. He’s put some distance between you two.

“Sure, if being forced into this activity with Oikawa is a good thing.”

Iwaizumi chuckles, “It’s our thing, L/N, and you know it.” You nod and purse your lips in a straight line because well, he made it awkward for no reason. Or was it you for saying something so obvious?

“How are the exam preparations coming along? Dream college or something like that?” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking past Iwaizumi’s shoulder at passersby.

“Could be better but so far no mental breakdowns.” You can hear the sarcasm laced in his voice as he speaks. “Was thinking about sports science ‘cause you know, it hurts me to watch athletes injure themselves.”

“Hajime, you’re a good person.” The words tumble out of your lips before you can stop yourself; it felt too unnatural to not say it. Iwaizumi barks a laugh. “You, too, F/N.”

You grin, “Obviously.” If you truly meant it or not, you didn’t know.

Comfortable ambience surrounds you both as you let the wind carry out the unsaid words.

You were never a person of many words - you’ve alway been a little too blunt, a little too hotheaded, a little too selfish. Although in most of the cases you were not aware, it was about damn time you got your head out of your ass and looked around yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, hoping it would cover all the damage you caused (and fully knowing that would not be the case).

Iwaizumi looks up, eyes searching yours. He quirks his eyebrow in a silent question.

You reconsider your words. “I’m sorry for not spending that much time with you. I know we’re not bound to each other or anything but I just felt like… maybe it was better for the both of us? I mean, we’re graduating in less than two months and … yeah.”

“Oh, so that’s why. I thought you were avoiding me,” he scratches the back of his neck, tilting his head. “You also haven’t been showing up to practice anymore so I thought…”

Right. Of course.

“Well, I managed to lure this first year into taking over my duties for the time being that I figure my shit out, you know?”

Iwaizumi mock-gasps you. “You’re so irresponsible.” You roll your eyes as some sort of retort.

“Come here.”

You look up in horror; his arms are outstretched and there’s an evil smile strewn across his face. “What do you want to do, Iwaizumi.”

“Dumbass, just give me a hug,” he says as he steps forward and catches you off-guard by encircling his muscular arms around your shoulders, squashing your face in the crook of his neck. He pats your back in a steady rhythm, your arms unmoving by your sides. “Come to practice and let that first-year breathe, will you?”

You let a small smile snake its way onto your face. “After all, this is what you say?”

“Priorities,” he hums, holding you still in his embrace. You groan in pseudo-annoyance as you lightly punch his stomach to get him away from you, only to no avail. “Cute of you to even try, now hug your friend back or I’m not letting you go.”

You sigh, “Everyone sounds like Oikawa, just how much extra time have you all been spending together?”

“Maybe if you had tagged along, you would have sounded just like us, too.”

“Is that really a win?” You say as your arms weakly encircle his waist, ghosting over it. “Now, let me go, you sap.”

Iwaizumi infinitesimally tightens his grip around your shoulders. “I would never.”

You flutter your eyes close against his shirt, your forehead pressed against his shoulder. You notice it was quite similar to something you had with Matsukawa - some kind of reassurance that they were here for you no matter what. Whether Iwaizumi meant it in that sense or not, you let yourself drop your build-up guard as you snuggle deeper into the comfort of his embrace and mutter a ‘thank you’ you hope he caught.

---

“Hajime!” You look up, your hand with the pen halting on the clipboard sitting on your forearm.

The person in question runs up to the girl and hooks her hands around his neck as he twirls her around in front of his teammates that look surprisingly apathetic.

“She keeps coming to his practice, why does he act like it’s always the first time?” You hear Kunimi mutter by your right and you send him an eyebrow raise to which he responds with a scowl. You wince. Kids these days.

Kindaichi bows and apologizes on Kunimi’s behalf. You wave him off with a half-smile and ruffle his hair, saying how great his blocks were.

“I will do my best!” He says as he dashes off onto the court, meeting up with the rest of the teammates. You catch Oikawa’s concentrated face as he gives the second years some advice on spiking. You smile fondly to yourself; there truly was not a better captain; leader.

“L/N-san,” the first-year tugs at your jacket, you nod in acknowledgment, prodding her on. “I’ll have to go now, so if you'll excuse me.”

“Of course! Thank you so much for helping me! Have a great day!” The first-year bows and leaves the gym with a wave. You reciprocate it with an added smile.

The girl from earlier approaches you in light-weight steps, her uniform neatly ironed, you noted. She has her hair in a high ponytail and you notice how stunning she is. “These guys can be really mean on the court, no?”

It takes you embarrassingly long enough to understand that she’s talking to you. “Oh… uh, yeah. They can get aggressive.”

“How long have you been a manager?” She suddenly asks, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Ever since I became a first-year, so three years now.” You answer, noticing how she’s clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I can’t even imagine how bad must it be for your mental health to deal with these brats.”

Oh. “Hm, if you’re used to hearing their bullshit everyday, I’m sure you’d be just fine.” She laughs genuinely. You subconsciously tighten your hold on the clipboard.

“Maybe,” she mutters, her gaze landing on Iwaizumi who spikes the ball set to him specifically by Oikawa onto the opponent’s court, adding a point to his team.

“Honestly I admire you for that.” You stay still because… what else is there to do? “As much as I’ve always wanted to be one, I don’t think I’d be good at it, and it’s too late for me, anyway.” She dry-laughs, the sadness clearly woven into her voice.

“I can show you some things if you want. It’s mostly paperwork but there’s also—” (the habit of talking before thinking was getting out of hands now)

She eagerly nods as you hand her your clipboard you’ve been writing into the whole time. The coach sends you a questioning look but you wave him off, mouthing ‘okay’, ‘no problem’ and everything in between.

As you two work in silence - you showing her the basics and the fundamentals, and her nodding everything off and asking questions (which reminds you of the first-year that you were lucky to find because, let’s be real, who would be so excited over taking the responsibilities?), you both don’t notice Iwaizumi watching you two interact, thinking how two of his favorite people are conversing.

And that’s how he gets zonked. In the head. By Oikawa.

Before you could run off to check up on Iwaizumi, she catches your wrist. “He’ll be okay in no time.”

You let your jaw drop. “W-what…”

“Just look at him, this happens all the time, don’t worry.”

“But it’s my responsibility—”

“Look out, L/N!!!” You turn towards the voice, for the first time in your life catching the ball... with your face. And as you hit the ground, blackness is the only thing that surrounds you.

Your head is spinning, the pain pounding against your skull. You’re lying on a bed, the headrest slightly raised. You bring a hand up to your face, feeling just how much it is swollen beneath your fingertips. “You’ll be okay,” the nurse says, cleaning up the supplies. “It’ll take some time healing; you got a pretty severe hit.”

“Yeah,” you let out, defeated. “What about Iwaizumi?”

“Ah, yeah, he’s just left. He’s okay, if that’s what you’re wondering.” You let out a sigh of relief. Just what the hell happened? You throw a forearm over your forehead and flutter your eyes close, indulging in the way the mattress beneath your body feels nice. Before you know it, you slip into the dreamland.

;

The practices have been less and less rigorous, considering the fact that the third years prioritized their decent marks rather than ‘some hobby’ (“L/N! How could you say that!” Oikawa whined on one fine day, tugging at your sleeve. Iwaizumi sent you a glare that day.). After all, they could’ve retired after losing to Karasuno but Oikawa was rigid, and someone had to lead the team for the little time that they had left.

You also have been seeing Iwaizumi’s girlfriend come to his practices, cheering him on or completely shattering his ego. They fit one another really well; she was there to ground him if he got too aggressive. Their natures seemed to clash in the right way. You swallow the bile rising up your throat.

No.

“L/N!” You turn to the voice, noticing it was her. You wave at her. This has become some kind of routine you both fell into, with the rest of the team as well. “How’s school?” She asks out of the blue and you weigh out the options: to answer or to digress. Why would she start a small talk, considering you two aren’t relatively that close yet?

You ignore the nonsensical thoughts your mind loves conjuring up.

“Good.”

She nods, averting her gaze as she bits on her bottom lip. You two watch the game before you.

(Eventually, these little small talks turn into full-on hangouts on Fridays with the guys tagging along. And maybe, maybe your assumptions were wrong, after all.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I can’t believe we’ve made it.” You sniffle into your sleeve as you hold tightly onto the tube with the graduation certificate in it. The school gymnasium is teeming with sweaty bodies of graduates, holding onto their own tubes. Everyone’s chattering so loud it makes your head turn.

Oikawa nudges your shoulder and with a blinding smile says, “We really did, L/N-san.”

You grin and turn your body to him, catching him off-guard as you hug his middle, fake-sniffling into his uniform. “Don’t pry my hands off, this is my love language.” Oikawa gasps but you can feel him lean into the embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Hey,” you lift your shoulder he’s resting his chin on. He hums in acknowledgement. “You did really well, Oikawa-san. I respect you so much, Oikawa-san. You have worked very hard-”

Oikawa jerks away from your warmth, holding you by your shoulders at an arm’s length. “You mean this, L/N-san?” He challenges you.

You flick his forehead. “Obviously not. Except the last part.”

Oikawa gets into a ranting mode as you look around the gymnasium, spotting numerous familiar faces. You send them a smile and a wave. On the other side of the gym, you spot Iwaizumi with his girlfriend by his side. Their arms are locked as they converse with Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

You notice the way Iwaizumi snakes an arm around her waist, probably trying to keep her as close as possible. Ah yeah, of course. Iwaizumi has always been a little too overprotective when it came to the people he cared for. You smile upon the fact; he was a bit too good for this world, although it might not seem so to strangers. But that was the beauty of it all, how only you — among the others he cared for— could see his true colors.

“L/N?” You look up. “Are you sure you’re fine? I mean it makes me really sad just seeing you so… sullen.” The tears are pricking your eyes. Why is Oikawa being like this?

“Tooru, I hate you so much.” You grab onto his jacket as he instinctually grabs a hold of your shoulders, slamming you against his chest. “Why are you like this.”

He tsks, “No, why are you like this?”

You let yourself indulge in the warmth and comfort of his embrace, tuning the world out for a second. “Thank you for the years. I mean it.”

“Now, now, why are you such a sap? Look,” he points behind you, “Mattsun and Makki are here!”

You scramble away from his hold, patting at your uniform as you pretend everything prior to this was just a hallucination, an illusion. “You two, can you believe this? L/N is so emotional it makes me cry, too.”

You grumble in embarrassment. “Let me be. I do have the right to be emotional. How are you not crying? You won’t get to see me anymore.”

Hanamaki joins the conversation. “I think that’s why none of us are crying.” Oikawa barks a laugh as he steadies himself on Hanamaki’s shoulder. You turn to Matsukawa, expecting some sort of back-up. “I mean, he didn’t lie…”

You pout. “Betrayal.”

“I knew you always had a favorite!” Hanamaki exclaims with his arms crossed over his chest. Oikawa stops laughing, already rolling his sleeves up, albeit unsuccessfully. “Unbelievable. I thought we didn’t play favorites?”

“We don’t!” You exclaim with as much rage.

Matsukawa steps into your personal space as he engulfs you in a bear hug, carding his fingers through your hair. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t have to lie to them,” Matsukawa says as he too-sweetly smiles at the remaining boys.

“Scandalous,” Oikawa says, hands already clenched in fists by his side. Hanamaki catches him by his middle. “Losers.”

You snake your hands into the inside of Matsukawa’s jacket and tickle him. “Ow,” He jerks away from you and sends you a glare. You only smile in return.

“You know,” Hanamaki starts, “you have never given me a hug.”

You widen your eyes because first of all, he’s absolutely right and second of all, why did he have the need to say it out loud and so… straightforwardly? Does he have no shame? You also hate the fact that your brain tends to short-circuit every time someone’s being too explicit and your body reacts a tad faster before you can realize it - naturally, your cheeks redden and you bring the tube to your cheeks to soothe the redness that is not going away. “Takahiro, shut!”

He shrugs. “For real, Oikawa hugs you like, all the time. Matsukawa does, too, which is surprising,” Matsukawa yells ‘Hey, I can be nice!’ , “and god, don’t get me started on Iwaizumi.

It’s as if Oikawa was made for this. His ears perk up at the mention of his childhood friend as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “What?” You roll your eyes, wishing for some silence, freedom, ‘get me out of here’s.

“You were saying, huh?” Oikawa leans into Hanamaki, their shoulders bumping. “Get off me, you creep.”

Oikawa has this whole ‘lost-puppy-in-the-streets’ look going on and you almost give in to the temptation to comfort him. But bruh, nah, he’s a big boy. “Anyway back to our Iwaizumi!

“We all know he’s not affectionate, right, he’d punch us in the guts and say something like, I don’t hate y’all. But!” You flinch upon the raised voice. “When it comes to our not-that best and not-that impressive and stupid and dumb—”

“We get it!” You say, looking awfully bothered by it (not that it actually bothered you, haha, nope).

“He’s kinda soft. It’s totally different with his girlfriend but yeah.”

The rest of you eye each other. This was so not happening. “Did you just analyze this whole meaningless shit,” Matsukawa deadpans.

“Had to justify my lack of L/N Hugs.”

You slap your forehead. “Hanamaki, what the fuck even--” In that exact moment, you’re thrown in Hanamaki’s way, his arms instinctually wrapping themselves around your shoulders as you try stopping the momentum that could possibly make you both fall onto the hard, stepped-on by not-clean shoes and totally not-dusty ground.

“Is this a new way of hugging or something?” A voice asks from behind you and Hanamaki in each other’s awkward embrace. There stands Iwaizumi with his girlfriend by his side, an ever-so-wide smile strewn across their faces. “At least I got my hug.” Hanamaki unwraps his arms around you, completely disregarding you as he drops you to the ground.

“I feel so used.” You wipe at your metaphorical tear in the corner of your eye. As you’re about to hoist yourself up, a hand appears before you.

Without any second thoughts, you take it and with the person’s help, you lift yourself up from the ground. “Thanks, ‘Zumi.”

“Hm, you never gave me a nickname.” It sounds like he’s pondering over the words except he just accidentally said them out loud. You notice your friend group a feet away, chattering animatedly with other classmates, Iwaizumi’s girlfriend somewhere in the far corner chatting with her girl friends. Great, you two, just what you wanted.

You swear to god that you caught the three close friends of yours sending you unsubtle glances, making gestures, clowning, whatever. You shake your head.

“Something on your mind, L/N?” You divert your gaze to the ground. After all this time, why does your heart skip a beat faster whenever you’re the only ones around?

“I,” you start, fiddling with your fingers, the tube safely tucked under your arm. “I never got the chance to properly thank you for the years.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. A second, two, three pass by. He’s waiting. “Uh,” you straighten your back and hold the tube with both of your hands to stop them from shaking so damn much. At this point they could become engines with which you could drive around the neighborhood. “I told the guys already,” you point at them with your thumb, “so don’t feel special or anything.”

He smiles and that encourages you to keep going. “Well, I don’t think you know but I’m like, the biggest fan of you.” He sends you a knowing look. Oh, so you’re a fan of him?

“Of you all. And I might not have shown it as much but it’s the truth. I can’t even imagine how hard you all must’ve worked to get where you are. Your strategies, your excellent thinking, your intelligence, your view on things - it’s all so impressive to me and I wanna let you know that whatever you’ll choose in the end, just know this high school time was crucial to your growth.”

Silence. Did you say something wrong? Maybe it’s taking him some time to absorb, digest the whole word vomit you just let out. What’s filtering anyway.

“L/N, you know,” Iwaizumi averts his eyes to the high ceiling, the sunlight smiling down on you two. “I don’t think you should be saying this to me.”

You shake your head. “I promise I’ve already told him and I’ll let him know later again, but now, this,” you gesture to the air between the two of you, “is about you so stop selling yourself short. I thought you were over this.”

Iwaizumi quirks his lips up in a half-smile, eyes sparkling with an emotion you could actually tell - gratefulness. “See, I didn’t lie when I said you were a good person.”

You shoot him one of your best smiles, “Could say the same about you, sir.”

“Hey, you two! You going?” Oikawa yells from the other side of the room, pointing at both of you. He’s nearing the exit with the rest of the third years, still facing you. You give him a thumbs up and the last thing you see is the undoubted significant smile that had no ulterior motives. “So, we going?” Iwaizumi points to the exit, the hall slowly but surely emptying each passing minute.

“You go ahead, I still have something left to do.” Iwaizumi looks suspicious but after relentless bickering, he gave up and said he’d be waiting outside, somewhere near the school, you’ll find him eventually.

As you’re left alone in the emptied gym, you cannot help but think of the times when you first got to know the guys that you now call your best friends.

Awkward, embarrassed, clueless.

You were reluctant to join, for: firstly, what did you know about volleyball? Secondly, you were really not looking for any friends, so how come it ended up the way you didn’t plan to, yet you were never more grateful? What would’ve happened had you not decided to join the volley club as a manager?

You’d like to believe you were in-one-way-or-another lucky. You never questioned your luck, never questioned your fate. You believed in the universe - although you knew it had a very obvious, blatant dislike to you. Ignoring all of that, you went with the flow.

People come and go. Friends come and go. You are aware.

These lingering feelings? It hurts.

It hurts but that’s only because you were never brave enough to let them out. This was a choice you could’ve chosen. You didn’t have to wait for a miracle to appear in front of you and make you say all the words you’d always felt too scared to say.

Hadn’t it been for Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, would you have been able to even fall in love with Iwaizumi in the first place?

Right, you did attend the same class but would the bond have been as strong as it is now?

No matter what, Iwaizumi was a friend first and although it hurts, you need to move on. One way or another.

“C’mon, L/N! We won’t get to any food if we dilly-dally any longer!” Iwaizumi shouts to you from the other side and you bite your lip to prevent the megawatt smile from spreading across your face.

It hurts.

It hurts so much, but the least you can do is to cherish him in the ways you can.

Cherish him as a friend.

118 notes · View notes

chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

Johnny gives me rough childhood vibes. Maybe a fic about his childhood or why he acts the way he does

Hiya lovely anon! Right so again, i’m sorry for making everyone wait ages for their requests but i never want to rush them and have them be bad. So i like to take my time to plan out how i want to write them before i write. I hope this was worth the wait and i hope that you love it. I’ve followed the story of Johnny and Sue and what happened to their parents but i’ve changed the age of when it happened, sort of. It’s for the sake of the fic to make it work.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: You’ve been dating Johnny for a while now but you still don’t feel like you know him, the real him. So when you finally ask about his life growing up, he hesitates to open up.

Warning: Angst, mentions of death, mentions of murder (not much), mentions of depression, self harm and just all round dark. If any of these themes upset or trigger you then please don’t read. 18+

Word Count: 4,311

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @xo-tough-love-xo go check them out🥰

Demons Unmasked

Ever since you first met Johnny you knew there was something about him, something behind those eyes, an immense pain that he could never move on from or heal. But being his partner didn’t automatically earn you the right to know and he wasn’t exactly the best at opening up. So for a while you learned to let it all go and let him be the one to tell you whenever he felt ready.

You can still remember when you first asked him about what life was like for him and Sue. He’d clued you in very early on about his parents and the fact that they passed when he was younger. It was hard on him, he didn’t need to tell you that, you just knew. And since he barely shared any more details, it was obvious that the whole thing was still a sore subject.

Sue pretty much raised him after that point and it wasn’t easy, she struggled day in and day out and worried like crazy about setting him on the right path and keeping him there. Gangs were all the rage and let’s just say it wasn’t an easy job to do to keep him far away.

When you and Johnny first started dating, Sue pulled you to the side for a chat at dinner and gave you a heads up about everything. At first you didn’t get why but the more time you spent with Johnny, you realised that he was very guarded and she wanted you to be aware of what you were getting into. She wanted you to know that patience is key when it comes to him telling you things.

And over the last year you’ve really learned a lot about patience. You’ve been there in the middle of the night when he’d wake up from a nightmare that scared him so much that he struggled to sleep again afterwards. You’ve wiped the sweat from his forehead and held him in your arms to soothe him. You’ve watched him change the subject umpteen times whenever the conversation turned to family.

Which isn’t a surprise because to him, his only family was Sue. She’s the only family member he ever knew and the thought of him growing up with next to no one else, saddens you deeply.

Today is your birthday and Johnny has been driving himself up the wall with plans for it. He keeps saying how he wants today to be perfect for you and that his favourite person in the world deserves nothing but the best.

Whoever said romance is dead hadn’t met Johnny Storm.

“Babe” he calls, his voice echoing through the apartment until he reaches the bathroom to find you drying off after your shower. His eyes rake over your body in awe before you turn away out of embarrassment “everything okay?” you ask, wrapping the towel back around yourself and padding into the bedroom and then to the closet to pick out your outfit for the day.

“Yeah, i just wondered when you wanted to do gifts” he smiles, leaning against the door frame as you change and then turn to him with the same smile on your face “whenever you’re ready” you say, glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly before following him out into the lounge and the moment you step foot into the room, you gasp at the sight. Balloons and banners cover the walls and floor. A small stack of presents sit nicely on the coffee table in front of the couch and you roll your eyes before looking at him.

“Johnny” you sigh, he’s really gone all out and you feel so lucky right now. Despite you consistently telling him that all you wanted was to spend the entire day with him, no gifts needed, he didn’t listen.

“What? You didn’t seriously expect me to not spoil you on your birthday did you?” he smirks, leading you over to the couch and handing you a card. You open it and pull it out to see it’s covered in love hearts with a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ on the front. However, when you open it to look inside, the cutest message is written.

‘Y/N,

Whether we are together or apart, you’re first in my thoughts and first in my heart. Happy birthday baby.

Lots of love, Johnny x’

As much as he likes to play dumb, he’s actually very intelligent and very cute and thoughtful. This card means more to you than any present ever could. Your lips touch his as you thank him for his beautiful words and mutter “i love you” in between the kisses.

“Now, open this one first” he instructs, pointing to the square box. You pick it up, placing it on your lap and start to undo the black ribbon tied neatly on top and when you lift the lid, a canvas is lightly covered in red tissue paper. It’s a picture of you and Johnny together. His lips are just touching your forehead and you’re smiling so big that you’re pretty sure your face was hurting. You both look like the epitome of happiness.

Tears brim in your eyes and you let one fall before turning to him “Johnny, i love it. It’s perfect” he tilts your head up to capture your lips in a loving kiss followed by a small make out session. He’s always struggled to stop at one kiss.

“I was worried it would be too much but i thought you could hang it right above our bed”

Did he just say our bed? Wait, are you missing something here because you don’t live with him, sure you’ve discussed it but never made any official decisions.

You can see he quickly regrets saying it as soon as he widens his eyes before clearing his throat and handing you the next present. This one is a tad smaller than the box before and it’s a white box with sticker in the middle, the writing is unclear but you waste no time in pulling the lid off to reveal a gorgeous apron.

When you and Johnny first met it was at a bake sale that Sue had dragged him along to. You were selling cakes that you had made, all sorts of flavours. He kept coming around to your booth over and over, tasting a different cake each time and giving you more than the money that they costed. You remember your sister who was helping you sell them telling you that he liked you but you waved her off, refusing to believe that you’d caught someones eye. But funny enough, before he left, he plucked up the courage to ask for your number and the rest is history.

The apron is white with a variety of colours all over it, the strings are pink and you’re in love with it. Now you’re desperate to get in the kitchen and bake just so you can wear it. He must have noticed the way your current one was getting rather tatty and the fact that he thought to get you this just goes to show how thoughtful he is and how much attention he pays to you.

“It’s so beautiful” you beam, holding it up to admire it some more “just like you then” he winks, snaking his arms around your torso and pulling you closer as he holds the final present in his hands.

Though you’re trying your best, you just can’t get the way he said our bed, out of your head. What did he mean by that?

“And this is the last one, i promise” he chuckles, popping it into your small hands and allowing you to open it. Once you do, a key sits in the middle with your initials written on one side and his on the other. You look up at him, more tears forming as it starts to click what this means “will you move in with me?” tears form in his eyes too as he looks at you with puppy dog eyes and you wrap your arms around him “yes, i’d love to” you grin, kissing him some more.

“Really?” does he even need to ask?

“Yes, really. I’d love to live with you”

He cups your face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss if that’s even possible before resting his forehead to yours and a relieved sigh escapes “i tried my hardest not to ruin it when you opened the canvas but i guess i just got too excited” he explains, so that’s what he meant by our bed.

Now it makes sense why he was looking at duvet sets and toothbrush holders for his place. He was preparing in case you said yes. Which you did and it was the easiest yes you’ve ever given.

Johnny then stands up, clearing any rubbish away before sitting back down next to you and going over the plans for the rest of the day. He mentions how he’s booked a table for dinner tonight but wants to take you shopping for something new to wear first. You reluctantly agree, after losing the battle with him. You tried to explain that you could just wear something you already have but he wasn’t having any of it.

You never win.

After getting your shoes on and brushing your teeth, you walk out into the hall to get your coat from the rack and as you do, Johnny bends down to pick up some post before spotting you stood there.

“Looks like you’ve got some cards” he states, handing them to you for you to open.

The first one you open is from your sister, she’s been busy lately with college so you didn’t expect to see her today but it’s the thought that counts.

The next one is from your parents. Johnny takes them from you once you read what’s inside so he can set them down next to the card you got from Sue and Reed and his one.

As he does this you notice him reading the cards and his face falls once he reads the one from your parents.

“Are you okay?” stupid question but you can’t just jump straight into a conversation like that, he has to know that you’re treading lightly. It’s always been a tough subject for him.

“Yeah, i’m fine” he shrugs it off before placing it down and turning to leave the room “shall we go then?” but you stop him.

“Johnny” he shakes his hand from your grasp, pulling away and letting out an annoyed deep breath “leave it Y/N” he snaps but you don’t. You can’t just keep leaving it. You want him to tell you when he’s ready but you’re afraid that day may never arrive unless you prove to him how much you care.

You sit back down on the couch and your silent prayers that he’ll join you pays off as he takes a seat next to you “Johnny, i know this isn’t exactly a conversation you want to have with me but i want you to know that i love you no matter what and i want to be here for you if you ever need me” you explain, taking his hands and holding them both in yours.

“I’m fine, Y/N seriously. I just need to stop being silly and move on from it. Most people have their parents around and i don’t, i haven’t since i was 10 and that’s fine” he rushes, in hopes that it’ll get you off his back but you aren’t budging.

Silence falls upon the two of you for a couple of minutes and you decide to just let him calm down before speaking. Eventually he beats you to it “i didn’t exactly have the best childhood. I was raised by my older sister and spent years so angry at the world that i did everything in my power to shut everyone out. I constantly wanted to lash out and make people hurt the way i was hurting. I joined gangs, i’d commit silly crimes like stealing and when that stopped distracting me, i resorted to self harm. I’d sit in my room for hours upon hours, sometimes even days and just lay there, music drowning out all the noise as i constantly attacked my own body. I hated who i’d become but who i’d become was the only way i could stop myself from hearing those voices in my head. Voices that told me my parents were better off not being parents to me and that i was a failure”

Tears drown your vision out as you listen to the man you love open up for the first time since you met him. He’s never told you about any of this. Now you can see why. When terrible things happen to us as a human race, we’re taught that no one will understand or that we are freaks and should just keep it to ourselves. Men are conditioned to feel like showing any kind of emotion will make them less of a man and that they need to be strong. The stigma attached to mens mental health is shocking and now you wonder if he ever told Sue any of this. You know she’s aware of him having some issues but has she known about this all along, all of the details?

“My mother died when i was 8, her and my dad were in a car accident, he survived and she well, you already know. Her side of the car was the side that got hit and my dad who was a doctor, struggled to save her. He spent so long beating himself up for it, blaming himself and soon enough he found comfort in alcohol. He drunk himself stupid every night almost and eventually got into gambling. Sue tried her best to help him, using me as a bribe for him to turn his life around, telling him that i needed a dad and if i lost him too it would destroy me. But he didn’t care. He was consumed by guilt, so much so that he got into a lot of trouble, mostly with loan sharks, we lost our house after he left and had to go and live with my aunt”

“Left? Where did he go?” you ask, keeping a hold of his hands as they shake from recounting all of his childhood trauma to you, you can see this is hard for him “if you don’t want to tell me then i won’t make you”

“No, i need to do this. He never died, i lied to you. He got sent down for murder two years after my mom passed, the lone sharks he got into trouble with were threatening him, it got pretty bad and he saw no way out. It’s just easier for me to say he died because i’m ashamed to admit that he refuses to see me or Sue and if i’m being honest, he might as well be dead. He doesn’t want anything to do with us. He said the guilt that fills him at the mention of our names is enough to make him want to stay away. He still blames himself for my mothers death”

You feel extremely overwhelmed right now, unsure of what to say until he turns to look at you.

“Listen to me, in no way are your parents better off being gone. If they were still with you and in your life, they’d be so proud of you. Johnny, i mean it. You’re incredible, the things you’ve achieved in the last year alone are something to be celebrated. I love you and i’m not going to let you diminish everything that you are. You’re brave and strong and i’m so glad to call you my boyfriend”

He leans his head on your shoulder and you pull him in for a hug. Both of your eyes fill with more tears as some fall down your faces and you can tell that right now all he needs is for you to be here and hold him.

After hearing all of that, everything makes sense. The way he acts, the way he overcompensates with his flirting and humour. He uses it as a mask, to cover up who he is in the dark when he’s alone. When you’re not around, this is him. Just a scared little boy who’s known rejection, sadness and regret for as long as he can remember. He’s just wanted to feel accepted, loved and wanted by those around him and he was forced to grow up way too early, losing his parents so close together can’t have helped him at all. Knowing his dad doesn’t want to see him saddens you all the more.

“Are you, you know... self harming now?” the one question you hate to ask but you have to know “no, i haven’t since before i met you. I found other ways to help my anger like working out” you both pull away from the hug and he sees how puffy your eyes are, his aren’t much better either.

“How did you do it?” again, you really don’t want to know but you have to, you want to understand him more and you’re hoping he won’t pull away from you now “however i could. Cutting, punching. All sorts. To me it didn’t matter what i did as long as i did something to ease the pain but the release never lasted long enough”

You close your eyes, sighing. All you feel for him right now is sympathy and anger. Angry that you didn’t know him then to help him but sympathy because no one should ever have to go through that. No one should ever have to feel so much pain that they resort to hurting themselves, no one should ever have to feel so worthless that they get themselves into trouble and lash out at everyone around them. His dad should have stayed, he should have used Johnny and Sue as a reason to fight but even then, addiction is hard to fight so it’s not like it would have been easy for him. Guess life just has a funny way of working out and this all happened for a reason. A very sick reason but a reason nonetheless. You’re just glad he’s with you now.

“I ruined your birthday” he mumbles, looking down and picking at the skin around his fingernails, anxiety practically drowning him but you’re not gonna let him do this.

You force him to look in your eyes and wipe the tears as they fall from his bloodshot eyes “hey, I don’t want to hear that you ruined my birthday. My birthday could never be ruined with you here. Whenever you’re around i feel like nothing could take away how good i feel” and it’s true, he makes you feel better, he improves your mood. You love him and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop.

There’s nothing he could ever tell you that could ever make you leave “are you sure?” his voice is low and barely audible but you hear it “i’m certain” he falls into your arms again and you kiss his head whilst you squeeze him tight “i love you” he sobs, his tears dripping onto your skin “and i love you” you rock him side to side, hoping to calm this frightened boy.

---------------------------------

After a while of just sitting there holding him, your phone rings, bringing you out of that sad state. It’s Sue.

He opens his eyes to see where all the noise is coming from and you move to pick the phone up.

“Hi Sue” you greet, barely even attempting to act nonchalant “sure, when?” she tells you that she was thinking of cooking for you, for your birthday and wants to know if you and Johnny are free.

You put the phone on speakerphone so Johnny can hear and he just gives you a nod as if to say ‘it’s up to you’. You know the relationship he has with Sue is important to him and he’s always been very happy about how well the two of you get along so you agree without a second longer to fester over it.

Sue hangs up to start cooking whilst Johnny excuses himself to reschedule the reservation for tomorrow instead. He insists that he wants today to be all about you and if going to have dinner with Sue is what you want, he doesn’t mind making the change but you still feel bad. He had this whole day planned and you can’t help but feel as though you’ve ruined it.

“Baby, it’s fine. Sue’s cooking is great, not 5 star Greek restaurant great but still great. We’ll go to that place tomorrow” he kisses your forehead as he heads into the other room to freshen up and you follow.

-------------------------

The journey to Reeds place doesn’t take long at all, it’s practically round the corner which doesn’t surprise you. You can recall Reed and Sue looking at bigger places but Sue ended up calling it off because she wanted to be close to Johnny at all times. Close enough so that if he ever needed her, she could be there.

Sue answers the door, smiling at you both as she ushers you inside, giving you a big hug and a present before you sit down “i was going to give this to you yesterday along with the card but i decided to wait until today”

You rip open the simple wrapping paper to reveal a Tiffany & Co. box with a white gold lock pendant necklace inside . It’s gorgeous “wow, guys. You really didn’t have to” you’re in shock “thank you so mucj”

She brings you into a hug before you stand to hug Reed too and shortly after Sue leads you away from him and Johnny and into the kitchen.

“You know i really ought to thank you” she says as she starts to dish up the food into serving bowls “since you came around, he’s been different. Happier. And i’m not saying this to make you feel obligated to stay with him but i want you to know that seeing him truly happy really means the world. You listen to him, you care for him and you love him”

Hearing Johnny say that you make him a better person and improve his life always leads to you waving him off like it’s nothing and that he doesn’t need to remind you what you’ve done for him because he’s improved your life too but hearing Sue say it, hearing her thank you like this. It all feels more real, like you really have made a difference.

“He told me everything” you blurt out, unsure if Johnny would want you to tell her that you know and by the way she shivers, you can see you caught her off guard “really?” she keeps herself busy with the food as she talks and when you walk closer to face her she freezes.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you both and i just want to say that any time you want to talk, i’m here. It must be hard sometimes carrying all of that on your back but just so you know, you’ve done an amazing job with Johnny. I couldn’t think of someone who’s sweeter or more polite and he’s doing well for himself” your praise sets her off and she starts wiping at her eyes before hugging you once more “thank you”

Johnny enters the kitchen, clearing his throat to announce his presence and when he sees the two of you, clearly having a heart to heart, his eyes soften “is the food almost ready?”

Sue nods, gesturing to the many serving bowls on the kitchen counter “take the potatoes and vegetables in please and send Reed in too” he nods, smiling as he does as he’s told before looking towards you with pure adoration.

God, he’s everything. He’s brave, loving and strong. You’re so glad he trusted you enough to open up and you’re gonna continue to be there for him, should he ever need to talk to you about any of it again.

Years have gone by with him never being able to find the words to talk about his childhood until you came along. Sharing everything with you was the first step to finally moving forward. Maybe he stands a real chance now at living a life free of all that pain. Maybe one day that will be possible and he can finally stop worrying about everything haunting him. One step at a time though.

He’s got you here with him to help him through and that’s all that matters right now.

----------------------

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @kaminorogers @yassspose @randomsevans

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @dwights-new-plague @whxre4cevans @a-little-counter-esperanto

LMK if you want to be added to any of my tag lists...x

#Johnny Storm #Johnny Storm angst #Johnny Storm x Reader #Chris Evans #Cevans #Chris Evans Angst #fantastic four #fantastic four rise of the silver surfer #angst #fanfiction #request #reader inserts #x reader #Chris Evans x Reader

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krsnbgirl · 4 years

Text

Fly High! || Masterlist || Kageyama x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: Attending Karasuno High School was your way of starting over and moving on from your injury in middle school. What you didn’t expect was to be pulled back into the world that you tried so hard to stay away from. Along the journey of recovery, you didn’t think you would grow close to Karasuno’s Boys Volleyball Team. Also falling in love with a certain setter was definitely something you didn’t expect at all. There’s one thing in common that you two share and that it’s wanting to fly as high as you can.

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Fem!Reader

Genre: Rom-Com, Slice of Life, Sports, Slow Burn

Warnings: Slight swearing, Anxious characteristics, Smoking (Ukai), Timeline based off of the anime (starting from season 2)

Author’s Note: I realized that I haven’t made a masterlist for this story, so here it is! Hopefully this can help with reading all of the parts that have been or are going to be posted! Taglist is still open if any of you would like to be a part of it! Also crossed posted on AO3! xoxo, Ren ❤

TAGLIST OPEN

Part 1

Word Count: ~3.4k Synopsis: The school buzzes with curiosity after news of the boys volleyball team got close to beating Aoba Johsai at the Inter-HIgh Prelims. You check in with your best friend Nishinoya and Shimizu calls you to the gym for some help. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside a gym and it brings back so many forgotten memories and feelings you’ve cast aside after your accident.

Part 2

Word Count: ~3.1k Synopsis: Still reeling over what had happened the week before, you look back at how your daily life at Karasuno immediately changed for the better. Nishinoya also comes to ask you for a favor that helps you grow closer to the weird quick duo after school. The boys also learn more about your past from middle school.

Part 3

Word Count: ~2.9k Synopsis: The volleyball club is very keen on making you join and you find yourself slowly giving in, despite having doubts about yourself. You also find yourself naturally gravitating towards Kageyama without realizing it after one of their practices. Kageyama also finds himself questioning the effects you have on him.

Part 4

Word Count: ~3.8k Synopsis: With the deadline for your response to being Karasuno's coach approaching, it's all that you can think about. Kageyama bumps into you and shares his thoughts about your situation. It doesn't go as smoothly as either as you hoped but in the end, Kageyama learns that maybe he'd found someone that understands him.

Part 5

Word Count: ~3.1k Synopsis: Hinata and Kageyama come over for a tutoring session since exams are right around the corner. Finally, they have a chance to have a little peek of your personal life at home after getting to know you more through your lunch time tutoring sessions. Kageyama also touches base with you about your decision which has finally come to an answer.

Part 5.5 || Side Chapter

Word Count: ~1.4k Synopsis: You head to Ukai’s store to have a conversation. He learns about some of your past and what your future goals were before coming to Karasuno. You both also come up with some new ideas that can help during practice.

Part 6

Word Count: ~3.4k Synopsis: Exams at Karasuno are finally finished. While you talk about exam results with Hinata and Kageyama, he notices something you’ve recently found out and the two of you grow a little closer now that he’s found out your little secret. Then fast forward to the training camp, you reunite with old friends and for old time’s sake, play a small game with them.

Part 7

Word Count: ~2.5k Synopsis: The first day of training camp has come to an end and the night is still young. After thinking about the boys’ current status at the camp, you spend some times with the rest of the managers. The topic of boys come up and you can’t help but spill your secret to them. As the night goes on, you end up at the gym and try to get in some personal training in when Kageyama shows up. You finally get to have a moment with the one person who has recently been taking up all of your thoughts.

Part 8

Word Count: ~3.5k Synopsis: Tensions are high between Hinata and Kageyama during their time in Tokyo. You can’t help but be on the sidelines and only step in when it’s necessary. Kuroo checks in with you and tries to help you relax during one of their breaks. Also, you show Kageyama that you’re going to be there for him whenever things get tough and he appreciates you for being by his side.

Part 9

Word Count: ~4.8k Synopsis: You finally figure out what’s been missing for the crazy duo’s quick and it’s all thanks to Ukai dragging you along to meet his grandfather. The rest of the boys are also doing their best to improve with the new practice regimen that you put together and you mainly helped Kageyama with his sets for further accuracy. Practice isn’t the only time you’re with Kageyama, but you’ve also become his personal tutor when it comes to school work. As time passed, you managed to grow closer to the socially awkward setter and the two of you begin to realize that it could be something more.

Part 10

Word Count: ~5.1k Synopsis: The team has a field day when they see you come in to practice late. Their teasing is relentless and it sticks with you throughout the whole day. You can’t help but think about the situation you’re in with Tobio and an old friend helps you find clarity. Then when Tokyo Camp is finally in session, you end up over pushing yourself and Shimizu tells you to rest for the first half of the day. While you’re resting the boys find out what happened to you and they need to figure out who’s going to check up on you before their practice matches begin.

Part 11

Word Count: ~2.9k Synopsis: You wake up to find Kageyama delivering the food that the rest of the managers reserved for you. While eating, you get to see the rare side of soft Kageyama and the small time frame you have with each other, it shows that both of your walls are slowly coming down. Then after having a late start to the day, the boys show how much they’ve missed you and as the day goes on, some priceless moments are finally captured through your infamous Polaroid.

Part 12

Word Count: ~3.5k Synopsis: The boys have been working as hard as ever during the training camp and Kuroo gives you some updates on what happened during free practice the night before. Then later that day, Nishinoya checks in on you during one of their breaks and a bet is made between the two of you. And as the day comes to a close, as usual, you’re practicing with Kageyama and both of you lose track of time. This time, you’ve accidentally pushed yourself past your limits and your injury acts up again.

Part 13

Word Count: ~3k Synopsis: The girls recap what happened the night before and Kuroo decides to have a talk with Kageyama when he and Bokuto visits your nightly practice with Kageyama.

Part 14

Word Count: ~4.6k Synopsis: It’s the final day of Karasuno’s training camp in Tokyo and the boys find out about the barbecue that will happen once they are all finished. Sugawara offers Kageyama some help before their last practice game and you finally get to see the quick that you’ve been dying to see in person. Then once the barbecue is in full swing, you catch up with your childhood friends and Kageyama finally asks you a question.

Part 15

Word Count: ~3.7k Synopsis: You finally have lunch with Kuroo and Bokuto where you catch them up with the night before. They comment throughout your story and as they walk you to Homura’s apartment to catch up with your girls, Daichi calls you out of nowhere. The call leads you to the girls’ gym at Karasuno after the weekend ends and a new opportunity awaits.

Part 15.5 || Side Chapter

Word Count: ~1.7k Synopsis: You get your hair dyed while hanging out with Rui, Homura, and Nishinoya. In the midst of hanging out, you get caught texting Kageyama and your friends do what they always do: instigate and get to know the boy you’ve been crushing on.

Part 16

Word Count: ~4.9k Synopsis: It’s finally the day for your date with Kageyama and you can’t help but feel so nervous. He surprises you by taking you to your favorite place and the day is filled with constant blushing while spending time with your crush.

Part 17

Word Count: ~5.3k Synopsis: Qualifiers for the Miyagi Prefecture has finally arrived. Being back at a competition venue made you nostalgic and you end up making another bet with Nishinoya. In order to prepare for the long day ahead, you grab some water for the team and someone approaches you.

Part 18

Word Count: ~5.3k Synopsis: With school back in session, your schedule with the girl’s volleyball team finally collides with your time as the boys’ manager. It’s something you’ve put off for a while and finally have to address with the team.

Part 19

Word Count: ~4.2k Synopsis: During the two months that the boys have before the Spring Nationals, Kageyama does recon and your schedule starts to look more hectic. Then during one of your trips to Tokyo for another training camp, Bokuto decides to have his talk with Kageyama and it makes him realize some things about himself.

Part 20

Word Count: ~4.1k Synopsis: Spring Nationals/Qualifiers has finally arrived and the boys are ready for their first match against Johzenji. As you all make your way towards the gym, Kageyama and Hinata end up bumping into Terushima. Then once their match starts, Kageyama ends up getting injured and there’s an unexpected turn of events when you take him to the nurse’s office.

Part 21

Word Count: ~3.9k Synopsis: The girls try to get out what happened between you and Kageyama and the boys win against Johzenji. Now that it’s the second day of matches after successfully beating Wakutani, Karasuno gets ready to go against Aoba Johsai. And knowing what had happened before, you prepared a small surprise in hopes to boost the boys’ morale for their upcoming battle.

Part 22

Word Count: ~4.4k Synopsis: The long-awaited battle against Aoba Johsai is in full swing as you watch along the sidelines. Tensions are high and it can’t help but remind you of memories you kept close to your heart. While watching, it reminds you of just how much the boys have grown in such a small amount of time.

Part 23 - TBD

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

Text

Chapter Four. See You Soon

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: when I say I cried while writing this........pls just read it for yourself.....my heart is broken, and be prepared for the angst

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST chapter word count: 12.8k

warnings: whole lot of angst, whole lot of smut

LETS CHAT ABOUT CN! let me know your thoughts pls!

pls rb to share! <3

It was early Wednesday morning when Harry had gotten a call on his home phone. The loud ringing startled him from his slumber, making him nearly fall out of his bed. But he quickly got up, and padded over to his phone; bare feet hitting the ground.

“ ‘Lo?” His raspy voice was heard on his end as he didn’t even get a chance to clear it.

“Hi, Harry. It’s Shareen,” he heard on the other end, making his eyes widen.

“Hi, Shareen. Can you give me a second please?” Shareen chuckled and said sure as Harry covered the speakerphone before he cleared his throat numerous times and ran a hand through his hair, which he thought was ridiculous seeing as she’s through a telephone and not in front of him. “Uh, h-hello?”

“You okay, Harry?” Shareen asked.

“Yes, I’m doing good. How are you, Shareen?”

“I’m lovely, thank you, dear. I just wanted to call you and let you know…”

Harry was listening to Shareen with wide eyes and excitement. It felt like he was completely dreaming. He had to pinch himself a few times to bring him back from the cloud and back to reality. He really couldn’t believe the news, but he understood every word she said.

“Thank you so much! I’ll see you Friday,” he said excitedly, bidding Shareen a goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Harry took a minute to process the news before he a wide smile was planted on his face as he screamed out a series of ‘yes’, punching his fist up into the air as he got teary eyed; way to early for seven in the morning, but he was wide awake as soon as he heard the news.

After his little celebration of excitement, he picked up his phone again, rotating the dial to the academy’s number. He immediately asked for you to the person, who he assumed was the front desk, on the other end.

You were teaching your seven a.m to twelve p.m class again as you did on Mondays and Wednesdays as you watched your young class stretch their limbs out until Susan from the front desk entered your classroom.

“Hey, you have a call at the front,” she said from the doorway with a smile and tired morning smile.

“Did they say who they were?” You asked her.

“No, but it seemed urgent. I’ll watch the class for you while you take the call?” She suggested, and you nodded your head, giving her a thanks before walking out of your classroom and to the front desk.

There were about two people you thought of when you walked towards the front. Your father was out of the question as he doesn’t call you for anything nor do you pick up any of his calls. There was Chris, but he rarely even called you when you two were together anyways. And lastly, there was Harry.

It’s been two weeks since you saw Harry for the second time, and within those two weeks, you saw him again for four times more.

When you were dropping him off back home, you had given him your home phone, but told him not to call during certain hours when your parents were home, and you had given him the studio’s number as well. He was proper excited as he received your numbers in your handwriting; practically jumping on the balls of his feet by your car as he told you he was going to call you when you got home. And he did. Luckily, no one was home by the time you arrived and you were fortunate enough to have a two hour conversation with Harry as you sat in the bathtub, talking about everything and anything—likes and dislikes, funny childhood stories, and favorite memories.

“When I was about six, my mum took me to the park with my sister. It was something so simple as a picnic, and we would just eat together and she would bring some board games for all of us to play. Then she would push Gemma and I on the swing, and ride the slide all together. That’s probably my favorite memory,” he said with a smile on his face from the other end. A bright smile was brought to your face as you pictured a small Harry having a great time with his family.

“Do you miss home? Holmes Chapel and NewYork?” You suddenly asked, knowing he moved to New York when he was a teenager.

“Yeah, I do—a bit. I mean, my childhood was in England and my family is New York. But my dream is here, in Hollywood. It was a lot to give up, and it was definitely the hardest thing I had to do—to leave them. I miss them a lot…” he trailed off sadly.

You took in everything he said, giving him some time to recuperate from his feelings. It was the first time he had ever shared something as deep as his family, and you appreciated his openness as you thanked him for sharing his story and how he feels.

And he was opening up to you, which you liked, but you would have to do the same too—because you wanted to tell him things as well.

“Can I ask you something?” He said. The water from your bath had already cooled down and it was starting to become cold, but you had stayed a bit longer to just talk to Harry.

“Yeah, anything,” you replied.

“Why do you only do ballet? You mentioned that you’ve only done ballet ever since you were little. You’ve never tried the others?” He asked slowly, and a bit of hesitancy was in his voice, not knowing if it was too personal or crossing the line for questions. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” he added.

“No, no. It’s okay to ask those things. But it was simply because my parents didn’t allow me—they said the others were too sloppy, so they only put me in ballet,” you sighed sadly over the phone.

“Oh…do you like what you’re doing? Are you happy?” Harry asked, wanting to make sure you were content with life and your job at the moment.

“I mean…yeah. I love dance and teaching and my students, but I just wished I explored more, y’know? It’s good to explore in the dance department, but my parents didn’t understand that. So, they pushed me to do ballet all the way up until college,” you explained.

“What did you study in college?”

You chuckled, more as it came out as a scoff. “I studied dance. I have my Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, and for a short period of time, I was able to take classes for jazz and contemporary, and I absolutely loved it. A year before I graduated, I got the job at the studio where I used to dance when I was younger. I just stumbled in there to say hi to everyone with my friends, and they just so happened to be looking for some new teachers,” you smiled, remembering that day you got offered the job, and you, Frances, and Alice were so excited.

“Do you wish you could be doing something else?” He asked.

“I wanted to be a journalist. Maybe work for the newspaper or in broadcast…I don’t know. That dream is long gone now,” you said softly, telling him your biggest dream. You’ve always had a fascination with writing and reading; it was something you enjoyed. But your parents threw that out the window the second you mentioned it to them. They told you how it’s a lot of work and that you should stick to something you were already good at, hence: ballet.

As you picked up the phone from the front desk, placing it to your ear, you heard movement; footsteps were heard from the other side.

“Hello?” You suddenly said, and fast movements were made on the other line.

“Oh, sweet girl, thank god!”

“Honey, hi,” you said, smiling as you practically heard him smile through the phone from his pet name.

“I have some very exciting news!”

“At seven in the morning? You’re never up this early,” you joked, and you heard him chuckle.

“I know right! But I got a phone call from Shareen—one of the casting directors-”

“Oh my god-”

“They called me back in for another audition! Can you believe that?! I’m going back! But this time, she said I’m doing a screen test, so I’ll be in front of the camera,” he excitedly told you.

“Harry, that’s amazing!” You slightly jumped in joy, truly being so excited for him.

“I know it’s not the official role, but this has to mean something, right? They called me back again,” he said hopefully, wanting some reassurance from specifically you. There was something about talking to you that made him feel safe, and like he wanted to share everything with you. Hence why he called you at the beginning of your class.

“Yes! That is definitely a good sign. You’ll do great, Harry. When and what time is it at?” You reassured him.

“Friday at 8 in the morning. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to call off, so I still have work at 12,” he sighed deeply.

You two hadn’t talked much about Sweetland, only keeping it minimal to ‘how was work?’ Although, he had told you the amount of customers he’s had throughout the month and a little more he’s been there, and it was just under ten—exactly six to which you were surprised because you had thought he had more customers. But he had told you that Daren rarely gave him customers and he had just worked in the back, but he didn’t mind in all honesty because of the simple fact that he wouldn’t nearly be as interested in them as he was in you.

And the only reason Daren did this was because when Harry had told him about his crush on you, he respected that because it may seem weird to pin after someone when they’re sleeping around still.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at 4?” You asked, hoping you would get to hang out with him again, and you wanted to hear all about his screen test as well.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll see you then.”

There was a bit of a silence that fell through the phone, neither one of you wanted to hang out, but Susan came back to check on you, and that’s when you had to tell him that you had to go.

“I’ll see you Friday, Harry,” you told him.

“See you Friday,” he smiled excitedly.

Before you hung up, you spoke again, “Oh, and goodluck, honey.”

“Thank you, sweet charm,” he said before hanging up.

Sweet charm…that was a new one, you thought. But you loved it either way.

Harry worked anxiously for the next two days, thankfully, he was not given any customers for those two days. He told Daren immediately once he walked into the shop, and he was ecstatic for him.

“Kid, that’s great! How do you feel?” Daren asked, leaning on the counter.

“Good—I think. A little nervous…” Harry chuckled slightly, keeping his nerves intact as he scooped up some gummy bears from the storage bins into the jars.

“That’s understable. But hey, it’ll all be fine. Take that from someone who was in your shoes,” Daren reassured him.

“Really? You wanted to become an actor too?”

“Hell, everyone and their dogs wanted to become a star. I just so happened to not make it very far, but I’m okay with that.”

“Do you mind telling me the story?” Harry asked.

“It’s a short story, but sure. Well, I was born in Hollywood and knew I wanted to become an actor when I was a kid. When I was twenty, I auditioned for some roles, only to be rejected because they said I was too young, but that’s a load of bullshit,” Daren shook his head as if he was remembering those events. “I got some small extra roles, but that was it. About three years later, I auditioned for some movie, and they told me that I didn’t have the face nor the talent. I was completely gutted, so I gave up,” Harry raised his brows.

“You did?”

“Yeah, but only because I knew it wasn’t right for me. But you--you’re amazing at it. You have a second audition for fuck sake! I’m telling you this so you feel less anxious. It’s scary out there, yeah, but you’re gonna do great kid. I can see a potential movie star right in front of me,” Daren said, pointing two L’s with his hands at him, pretending it to be a camera as he smiled at Harry as he placed his cigar in his mouth. Harry chuckled, playfully posing into his ‘camera.’

“Thank you for that. I’ll try not to think about it too much. But whatever happens, happens,” Harry said, somewhat trying to convince himself.

“Exactly. It’s not the end of the world. If you don’t get the role, then you get up and keep auditioning for other roles. Got it?” Harry nodded, feeling appreciative for Daren’s words.

“It’s on Friday morning, so I’ll still be able to work-”

“Ah, kid. Don’t worry about coming to work if you can’t make it. This is a huge step, so if they need you to stay longer, then that’s fine,” Daren gave him a smile. “So, tell me about your girl, yeah? Have the balls to finally ask her out?” Harry chuckled, loving the way ‘your girl’ sounded when he was referring to you.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to tell you how he really feels, but he had a clue that you already knew. There were so many unspoken words between you two that there was also a bit of fear of ruining what you two already have. There were playful glances, innocent touches, and sweet callings of pet names for each other that he didn’t know what your true intentions were when you would do all of the above.

He’d gotten to know you greatly and somewhat deeply; noticing that you always left out the topic of your family when he asked you questions about your life. He obviously didn’t push it as he was okay with waiting for you to open up to him. But there was this feeling in his heart that felt so much for you. He’s only known you for a month and he feels all the crazy feelings with you that he can’t control them anymore because very soon, he’s going to just blurt out and proclaim his feelings towards you. A serious talk with you was in his favor, but he didn’t know when the right time was.

But all he knew was that he wanted you to be his girl, officially.

Friday morning rolled around quickly, and Harry was calm on the outside while on the inside, his brain was scattered with nerves.

He had barely gotten any sleep due to his overthinking of what might happen during the audition, and with the many thoughts making his head hurt, it lulled him to sleep for about two hours until he woke up thirty minutes before his alarm. Instead of driving himself mad, he decided to get up and get ready earlier than he intended. He took a long shower, the water from the showerhead, cooling down his body as he washed his face and brushed his teeth multiple times.

He started to hum as he gathered his belongings; humming all the way to the studio to ease his nerves and keep him sane. It was particularly a beautiful day; the Hollywood morning weather felt nice and cool as the sun started to shine brighter and brighter. And he prayed that the outcome of his audition wouldn’t storm on him on this beautiful and eventful day.

Luckily, making it passed security wasn’t a problem as his name was on the list and if there was a problem, Shareen had told him to ask for her name and they would let him right through. Walking through the studio was different the first time around because he had no idea what he was supposed to do. But the second time walking through the sets and crew felt like he belonged there. He casually walked, humming as he waved at people who passed by as he felt a little more confidence rush through him.

“Harry, I’m so glad you’re here!” Shareen greeted him once she saw him enter through the door. The set was a large area with two cameras on opposite ends, and some props. There were about ten people in the room, setting everything up as they fixed the lighting and adjusted the cameras. Plus, people who worked with wardrobe and makeup as he saw Sky sitting at one of the vanities, getting her makeup done. He was happy to see that Sky got another call as well; and she was wonderful to work with, he thought.

Harry made sure to put on a stylish outfit; nothing too over the top or anything too sloppy. He also wanted to dress accordingly for the role, just in case they don’t tell him to change, so he wore a black and white cardigan with Times Square sketched on the front of it, a white tank under, and some khaki pants. After many outfit changes in the morning, he felt confident enough to wear his outfit, especially for the specific role. Now, if he were auditioning for the main character who’s getting married, that would be a whole other decision that would need at least two weeks to prepare because he has about seven different suits in his closet, not to mention, sparkly and colorful ones.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you for calling me,” he told Shareen, smiling at her softly.

“Of course, dear. I’m glad the others agreed with me to call you to come back because I’m so excited for what you have to show us. But now, I must give you the rundown on what’s to come,” she said, and Harry nodded, listening to her intently. “Basically how this is going to work is you’re going to do the same scene with Sky as you did when you both first auditioned for us, but this time you’re going to be doing it in front of the camera. We’re doing this because it’s very different acting off camera than it is on camera, so we just want to make sure the camera doesn’t take away the substance of your acting. Is that okay?”

“Yes, sounds great,” he said, nodding.

“Perfect. Now, I have to prepare some things, but sit and run over the script again before we get started--should be about five to ten minutes,” she told him before walking away to talk to the other producers.

Harry sat at one of the vanities, picking up the script and putting all of his focus on his lines, jogging his memory from the very first audition. He remembered it, for the most part as he thought about the day he auditioned over and over again, seeing if he could’ve said a line differently. Those were the instances when he would drive himself insane.

After about five minutes, the producers called Harry and Sky to the set. Harry took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror to fix his hair, and gave himself a small pep talk before walking over to the set where the producer and Sky were standing.

The producer was a bit older, and he intimidated the fuck out of Harry. He stood there with an annoyed expression, probably wanting the day to be over with when it had just started. The man gave him no smile to either Harry or Sky; just directions on what to do.

The director, who he found out his name was Rob, was sitting in his chair with his elbow on the arm rest, resting his head in his hand. He was a little less intimidating to Harry; he seemed like he just wanted these screen tests to be over with.

Harry had heard there were about three others they called in for a screen test, which racked up Harry’s nerves a bit, but he remembered Daren’s words and thought about you, his sweet charm, to get him through this screen test.

“Okay,” Rob spoke up, “I assumed Shareen already walked you two through what’s going to happen, yes?” Harry and Sky nodded in reply. “Great. So do just that, but we’re going to film it. Easy,” he said, turning towards the cameramen. “Alright, let’s get the cameras rolling.”

Harry and Sky got into character for the second time, taking deep breaths as they maintained their focus onto their characters.

“And...action!”

The two performed as they did in the first audition, but this time, they made sure to intensify their feelings and emotions. They knew they were in front of the camera and were practically competing against other people, so they worked together to make them both look and act well. It was the same script and same lines, but the whole scene was acted as they were cut off the last time by one of the producers. And Harry and Sky prolonged the scenes, giving it a dramatic feel.

Once the scene ended, there were small claps around the set, and Harry was happy that they were able to do that in one take. It didn’t take long either; about fifteen minutes to film the whole scene without any cuts or takes.

And he was damn proud of them.

“Wonderful job, you two. We’ll keep in touch,” Shareen said to the both of them. Harry and Sky beamed as they gathered their belongings and headed out of the studio.

“Think we’re gonna get the roles?” Sky asked once they were outside of the gates.

“Maybe. Who knows. Just have to be hopeful,” Harry replied, looking around for the railway.

“I’m hoping we do--we make a great team,” she complimented them both. Harry agreed, they did make a good pair in front of the camera. And he was lucky that his partner was one of the good ones and not one of the rude ones that would have made him look bad. “Say, do you want to get some breakfast? I know a diner around here” Sky suggested.

It wasn’t like Harry didn’t like her because he did, but not romantically, anyways. But he did notice the certain flirty eyes she sent his way sometimes, so she made it quite obvious that she had some sort of attraction to him. Sky was a pretty woman, don’t get him wrong; black hair, dresses nice, and whatnot. But he’s too nice sometimes that they get the wrong idea, but he’s just too charming for his own good.

“I actually have to get to work,” he said, technically not lying because he did, but it was almost nine a.m, and he didn’t have work until twelve.

“Oh, where do you work at?”

“Uh, the candy shop,” he said, hesitantly. There might be a great chance she stumbles her way there and asks for him, but he couldn’t lie to her. Plus, it was great business for the shop and the other guys might get lucky with her.

“The one on sunset?” She asked, smirking at him; obviously knowing what kind of candy shop that is and what kind of business they do.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Harry confirmed.

“Hmm. Interesting. Maybe I’d have to pop by sometime,” she flirted, and Harry simply nodded in response.

“Well, I gotta go. It was nice working with you, and goodluck if I don’t see you again,” Harry brought his hand out for her to shake, and she chuckled, shaking his hand.

“I’m sure it’s not the last time I’ll be seeing you, but goodluck,” she said with a smirk before walking away. Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, not looking forward to Sky coming to the shop, which he’s sure she will be visiting soon.

Instead of pondering over the fact that Sky may be visiting the shop, he decided to just walk over to the railway stop and head on home before he has to leave for work, which is in about three hours. He was proud of his progress and where he’s ended up, even if that means he doesn’t get the role, he was happy he did it with his best effort and made sure to give them his best performance. As he got onto the railway, he thought about how Shareen seemed to take a liking to him, so that had to mean something because if he doesn’t get the role, she could probably help him and recommend him to other people in the industry.

Once he was finally home, he kicked off his shoes, and grabbed a glass of water as he seemed so dehydrated from the heat and from his performance; too overwhelmed that he forgot to grab a water bottle on his way out. He sat on his small sofa for a few minutes, thinking back at how eventful the day has already been and he hasn’t even worked yet or seen you. He debated on calling you, but it was Friday so you weren’t at the studio just yet; probably at home but he didn’t know if anyone was home, so he just decided to wait until you’ll arrive at the shop.

He was very excited to see you later in the day, and he hoped he could ease his way into talking about how he really feels about you. He also feels it’s been a while since he last talked to you on the phone, but come to think of it, the last time was Wednesday. The feeling of missing your voice and face was getting to him and he itched to just call you any time of the day, but he understood that you had your responsibilities. But he also did wonder why he couldn’t call your home phone during certain times; he knew you lived with your family and you live in a wealthy neighborhood, so could you possibly be embarrassed of him?

You’ve made him feel so comfortable in public, but that’s the public where no one knows you, and family is different. They have different sets of values and thoughts that don’t even compare to the general public. And Harry didn’t really make that much; only stocking up some candy and having the occasional sex, which he is never really into. The point is, Harry didn’t want you to be ashamed of him. And although he truly knows that you aren’t, his overthinking mind was thinking for itself, driving him up the wall.

He glanced at the clock and realized an hour went by, meaning he’s been sitting on the couch for an hour as he blanked out, thinking of so many different things that it tired him out, and he was ready for a nap before work. His tired eyes were slowly shutting as the last thought in his mind was you; excited to see you later.

Harry entered work with a big smile. Daren immediately asked him how the screen test went, and Harry gave him every single detail. He also mentioned the fact that Sky tried flirting with him and said she might come into the shop sooner or later.

“And you turned her down? For breakfast?” He asked, a classic cigar in his mouth.

“I mean, yeah. I just wasn’t interested in her,” Harry told Daren honestly, doing his usual work in the shop.

“Man, you must be so whipped for your girl,” Daren teased, smirking at him.

“If you ever meet her, you’ll understand why I am,” Harry chuckled, but remembered you have met Daren briefly before he even met you.

“I had a short conversation with her, and yeah, I understand. It’s the reason why I don’t give you any more customers. I know you really like her--could tell by the way you talk about her,” Daren pointed out, and Harry blushed.

“Thank you, for that, by the way. It feels particularly odd sleeping around while trying to make her mine, y’know?” Harry said, and Daren nodded.

“Yeah, I get it. I was in your shoes too,” he said, and Harry’s not surprised. Daren seemed to have been through a lot throughout his life, and he finds it helpful that Daren tells him these things to somewhat ease his anxiousness. “I gotta go talk to Pete. You okay here?” He asked, and Harry nodded as Daren walked to the other side of the shop and Harry started to wipe down the counters.

Four hours went by a bit slow for Harry's liking. He was mainly in charge of the register and stocking some jars. There were only about three workers, including himself, and it was surprisingly a slow day at the shop, considering it was Friday.

Multiple customers had come in and out; out with his coworkers as Harry chuckled, saluting his friends to have fun. Some customers had said the code to Harry as they were paying for their candy, but Harry kindly told them that he wasn’t doing that particular work at the moment, which he earned a small frown to the customers, and he thought the shop was losing business when he turned them down. But Daren had said it was okay because they get plenty of customers everyday because it’s sex and people are willing to pay for it.

It was 4 p.m exactly and Harry wondered what time you were arriving. You would usually arrive a little before four, but you hadn’t made an appearance, and Harry wondered if you had forgotten that you two were going to hang out. But he chilled out for a bit as he flipped the neon open sign off, indicating Sweetland was closed.

Harry continued to keep himself busy as him and Jack cleaned up the shop a bit for the next morning.

It wasn’t until it striked 4:30 that Harry started to get worried. A bunch of thoughts ran through his head, trying not to think the worst as he swept the floor. You wouldn’t have forgotten about him, right? You were the one who initiated to hang out, so you wouldn’t forget. Unless you were really busy and had forgotten, which he doesn’t blame you because being a teacher is difficult. But he knew he should’ve called you the night prior to confirm your plans so you wouldn’t have forgotten, but-

And as his mind was going into overdrive, the entrance bell rang, revealing you stepping into the shop. You were wearing a white tank with some fitted spandex shorts along with some sneakers as your hair was in a bun. He’s seen you in your work attire or workout clothes a handful of times, but for some reason, this time was different. Harry realized that he loved seeing every version of you, simply because it was you; you made his heart swoon at every given chance, which was all the time.

“Harry…” you said, walking towards the counter where he stood behind it, jaw slightly opened.

“Oh, h-hi,” he said shyly, making you let out a breathy chuckle. After the many times you hung out, he was still somewhat nervous around you, and you knew that he was, but you made sure to warm him up and make him comfortable.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. We got held back in class because the power decided to go out for at least twenty minutes, and we really needed to get the routine down before competition-”

“Hey, it’s fine. I would’ve waited all night,” he said, meaning his words. But that made you feel even more bad.

“I should’ve called--I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier,” you slightly frowned, and Harry reached across the counter to hold onto your hands.

“Sweet girl, I mean it when I say it’s fine. I get that you’re busy. You can’t just end class early for me, that’s your career and job,” he reassured you, giving you a small smile. You only nodded, still feeling quite bad you had him wait. “Now, c’mon. I’m ready to get out of here if you are,” he said, putting the dirty rag in the bin in the storage.

“I was actually wondering if I could get some lollies?”

“Yeah, of course. Help yourself. I’m just going to clock out really quick,” he told you, and you walked over to where the candy bags were sitting, grabbing one before walking to the lollipop section.

You helped yourself to seven strawberry lollies, some bubblegum, and some sour candy before walking to the register and tipping the tip jar $5. Harry came out from the back as you were in action of tipping.

“I told you to stop tipping so much, and you know you don’t have to pay for your candy,” he playfully scolded you.

“And if I want to?” You raised your brows, teasing him back. Harry laughed as he shrugged, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop you. But that’s what he also liked about you; you always did as you pleased because you simply wanted to. You had your own way of doing things and you never let anyone walk all over you. He thought it was pretty admirable.

“You’re free to do anything you’d like,” Harry said with a chuckle, looking away to see if the register was locked and didn’t notice you were leaning over the counter. He brought his eyes back to you and gulped as your hands were planted on the counter as you were bending over, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes.

“Anything?” You asked.

“Yeah. Anything--as long as it makes you happy,” he said slowly, curling his lips in his mouth.

“You know what would make me really happy?”

“What’s that?” He asked back, clueless to what you’re about to say.

You sighed deeply, and not one that was out of annoyance but one that was innocent and teasing. “Cloud nine.”

Harry’s eyes widened, surprised you said the phrase that he hadn’t heard in so long. He truly wasn’t expecting you to say that; he was thinking of something along the lines of going to the diner or sitting in your car until the sun goes down, but not the phrase that brought you two together.

“Interesting,” he simply replied back, not knowing what else to reply with since he was so in shock.

“I know you guys already closed and the shop has rules, but do you think you could make an exception? For me?” You innocently batted your eyelashes at him, but he knew they were anything but innocent. Harry’s dick twitched in his pants and he was lucky that he was behind the counter where it was able to cover his growing hard on. Once he regained the courage to say something back, he took a deep breath as he let out a chuckle.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to let it slide for today,” he said, playing along as he smirked. You contained your smile, blushing very hard that it made your cheeks warm; happy he was playing along.

You stood up straight as you said, “Shall we get going?”

“I’m right behind you, sweet girl,” Harry replied. A surge of confidence rushed through him as he followed you out the door, not bothering to lock up as Daren was still in his office, waiting on the other guys.

You two get into your car, starting your car, putting on your sunglasses. Today’s pair were pink and square shaped as the lens was see through, still being able to look at your eyes through the color tinted lens.

Before you put your car into drive, you placed your hand on the space between you two, leaning on it as you leaned forward towards Harry. He leaned in a bit closer, flickering his eyes between your lips and eyes.

“Honey…” you said.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you, please?” You asked politely, eyes completely trained onto his pink lips.

“Absolutely.”

And for the first time in almost a month and a half, he finally felt your lips on his again. The feeling he’s been waiting for since the first time you dropped him off back at the shop. The softness of your lips had drawn him in for more as he placed his hand on the side of your head.

The kiss had been something you’ve been longing for. It was a feeling you’ve missed dearly and you wanted so much more. You placed your hand on the side of his neck, holding him lightly as you two kissed in your car that was running; engine loud.

Once you two parted, you placed your forehead on his, hands still set on each other’s face and neck as you two breathed out a laugh, both in disbelief that that finally happened again.

“I’ve missed you,” you said as you pulled your head back to look at him. Harry smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“I’ve missed you too. So much.” You smiled back at him, blushing as you sat back into your seat, driving off.

Harry didn’t know where you were taking him as you two passed the Beverly Hills Hotel. But once you parked into a driveway, he was amazed that you took him to your house. The big house was right in front of him, and although he's seen them in plenty of films and occasionally passes by them, he couldn’t believe you lived here.

It was a fairly large home; walls painted all white with flower beds under the many windows shown on the front of the house with large pillars next to the front porch. The driveway itself was big as there was an entrance and exit gate.

He followed you to the large and tall brown front door as you unlocked it, walking in. Harry walked in slowly, looking up and around as he took in the inside of your house. He didn’t know where to look; the shiny tiles, the massive living area, the long dining table or the massive backyard that was just straight of his vision.

But before he could observe more, you grabbed his hand as you led him up the long staircase and up to your room.

It’s been a while since anyone had been in your room, romantically that is. And you were a bit nervous to have Harry here because you wanted to know what he thought of your room personally. You had noticed how he was looking around your house before you snapped him away and brought him up. But that was only because you somehow wanted to tell him that everything about your house was not you whatsoever. The big house, the decor, the antiques—they weren’t you.

But you were able to decorate your room according to your likings and your interests. It was the complete opposite of what Harry saw downstairs, and he was by far more interested in the walls of your room. There were posters hung up, floral curtains, an entire book shelf, a red dresser with a mirror as all of your fragrances sat on top of the dresser along with some knick knacks—it was very you. And he absolutely adored it. He realized he could sit on your floor, on top of your rug, for hours with you as you tell him your favorite song on each vinyl you own, which he thinks is about thirty.

“Your room is very lovely,” he told you honestly, as he followed you; taking off your shoes as did he.

“Really? You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s very you and I like it very much,” he said, hinting at the double meaning to his words. And you understood what he was trying to say, but you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck as his goes around your waist,

Your chests were pressed together as you two smiled at each other, and you played with the ends of his curls on his neck.

“Tell me about your screen test today,” you excitedly said.

“Right now?”

“Yes! I want to hear all about it,” you unwrapped your arms and went to go sit on the edge of your bed, eagerly waiting for Harry to tell you his experience.

Harry sat next to you, and started to tell you everything, not leaving out a detail as he did when he told Daren. He even told you about Sky, and he was surprised that he didn’t see a hint of snark on your face when he mentioned that she was planning to visit the shop. But your brows just raised as you let out a ‘hmm..’

“I’m really nervous, but if it happens then great. If not, then I’ll keep trying,” he said.

“Well, I am very proud of you. I’m sure you did absolutely wonderful, and I’m so excited for you!” You beamed causing him to giggle.

“Nothing’s happened yet, but we’re staying hopeful.”

You got off the bed and walked straight to your dresser to sit on top of the wooden furniture.

“You’re amazing, honey. They’d be crazy not to pick you. I know I haven’t seen how you act, but just by how determined you are, I know you’re wonderful,” you said honestly. Harry really appreciated your words; getting up from the bed and walking towards you.

He put his hands on your shoulders, running his hands up and down your arms as he was in between your legs. You gulped in response as you took deep breaths, trying not to get worked up from his touch but it was definitely hard not to.

“Thank you, sweet girl. You have no idea how much your words and you mean to me,” he said, putting his forehead against his before kissing the tip of your nose softly,

“Show me?” You suggested, and he pulled his head back and raised his brows. “Show me how much I mean to you,” you said, words coming out differently than the first time. Harry only nodded as you heard him deeply sigh before connecting his lips with yours.

Your hands raked his clothed back as his hands roamed your sides as you two moaned against each other’s mouths. He pulled back to press multiple kisses to your jaw and neck, lightly sucking on your skin, making you let out a ‘mmm’.

“I wanna taste you,” you said as he was attacking your neck with kisses. He pulled back and looked at, smirking.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, please. I want to—well, only if you want me to,” you said with a chuckle.

“Of course I want you to. But you obviously don’t have to,” he said nervously.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want to,” you teased him, and he chuckled with a nod.

You reached for the button of his trousers, quickly taking them off before letting them go as they fell briskly to his ankles. He got out of his legs out of his trousers before you slightly pushed him back to get off of the dresser. You then slowly untied his bow of his blouse before unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off, leaving him in just his briefs.

The sight in front of you was something you could get used to, and this time, you really took your time taking in each of his tattoos and skin as the last time, you didn’t really get to. You reached up to kiss him again, one arm around his neck and the other in between you two as you touched him against his underwear, feeling his very hard dick in your hands. He moaned against your lips, and you pulled back, kissing his collarbone and chest, all the way down to his lower abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” You asked, looking up at him as you were on your knees.

Harry was practically in heaven as he looked down and saw such a beautiful woman in front of him.

“Please,” he said, pleading for the removal of his pants. You slid his pants off down his legs as his hard cock shot straight up to his stomach. Your mouth watered from the sight as you rolled your lips into your mouth before licking them.

But you decided to jerk him off a bit, not for too long because you wanted him in your mouth, but you also wanted to tease him a bit.

From his dick being dry, you licked him from base to tip, coating him in your saliva before hand started off slowly, pumping and twisting your wrist. Harry groaned out, wishing the feeling of your tongue against him lasted longer.

After a few more pumps, Harry said, “Please, sweet girl. Need your mouth.”

You smiled up at him, kissing his thigh before taking in his tip into your mouth, sucking on him lightly. You then started to take more of him, slowly pushing forward as he filled your mouth up.

You started to bob your head, taking him from his tip and only halfway because that’s how far your throat could take him, but your hand pumped whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth as your left hand fondled with his balls.

“Oh, god. Takin’ me so well,” he groaned out, throwing his head back as the feeling of your mouth on him was pure ecstasy.

You moaned around him; the vibrations of your moans sent straight to his dick, intensifying the feeling. He grabbed the edge of the dresser behind you, keeping himself steady as your mouth and tongue worked wonders on him.

You popped his cock out of your mouth, leaving a kiss to his tip before kissing down to his balls; taking one in and sucking on him before doing the same to the other while your hand stroked him.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” he groaned, looking down at you as you looked up at him, balls in your mouth.

“Cum for me, yeah? Wanna taste you so bad,” you said as he let out a series of ‘fuck.’

“Mouth is made for me, huh?” He asked, and you nodded innocently, even if your act was anything but innocent. “So close.”

Your mouth went right back to his cock, bobbing your head faster, but not pushing yourself all the way down on him, just sucking on what you could take. Your movements don’t stop nor do you stop to take a break. The slickness of his cock and the fact that Harry was close was enough for you to keep going to get him off.

Harry started whimpering above you as his breathing was staggered while he shot his warm spurts of cum inside of your mouth and ‘sweet girl’ fell out of his mouth. His hips jolted a bit as he was nearing the end of his high as his cock was still in your mouth, taking every drop of what he had to give you.

You pulled away from him, swallowing every bit of his orgasm as you slowly stood up; between Harry and your dresser. He immediately captures your lips, tasting himself on your tongue as he swirls his tongue with yours, holding you close to him.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he whispered against your lips, and you giggled, giving him another kiss.

“Taste so good,” you smirk at him, and your demeanor is what makes him hard again.

“Not as good as you, sweet girl. How do you want me?” Harry asked, knowing you have complete control over him.

You think for a moment, pursing your lips as he watches you, thinking you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. You placed your hand on his chest, urging him to step back a little before you turned around, bending over your dresser. The look you’re giving him through the mirror was a seductively and sultry look piercing through him that he thinks the mirror might break from how intense and hot you’re looking at him.

“Like this,” you said, swiftly taking your little shorts off and stepping out of them,

Harry smirked, roaming his hands on your hips. You were wearing some plain beige panties, wanting to be comfortable while you were at work, and he thinks you look absolutely sexy in them—anything you wear is sexy on you, and he loves how you own it.

“What are you waiting for?” You teased, smirking at him. He lets out a breathy chuckle before taking your panties off so you’re bottom half is bare for him.

He bent down, kissing your hips and your ass before moving up and kissing your back while lifting your shirt up. Once he got to your shoulder, he took off your shirt, kissing up your neck as you loved the way his lips felt on your skin.

“Honey…” you slightly whimpered.

“What is it, sweet girl?” His hands squeezed your tits, playing with your nipples before one hand trailed down to your clit causing you to lose your thought and your words.

He started rubbing your button as he kissed and sucked your shoulder, the feeling caused you to let out a whine. He felt the wetness between your legs and you felt the hardness against your back, both feeling so needy for one another.

“Harry, can you please fuck me already?” You said seriously, looking at him through the mirror.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he smirked. His hand left your clit before he reached in between you to stroke his cock.

You bent down to open a drawer, pulling out a condom from underneath your clothes, ripping it open and giving it to him. He rolled it on, slipping his tip inside of you as you both let out a groan before he pushed all the way in.

“Oh, fuck. So fucking big,” you let out. It was only the second time Harry has been inside of you, so you were still adjusting to his size, and he gave you a minute before you told him that he could move. He gripped your hips, slowly starting to fuck you.

“You feel so good,” he groaned out. His pace was still slow, but he was amazingly deep.

“Fuck me harder?” You suggested, looking at him. He smirked and nodded, going faster and harder.

“Want me harder?” He said just as his ring hands held onto you was tight, knowing you’d have marks in the morning, but you loved it. Your ass was slapping against his pelvis; the sound made you wetter and more turned on.

“Want it rough,” you said, grimacing at him. And it was like a switch flipped through him, grabbing your hair and twisting it in his hand as he pulled on it, causing your body to lift up so your back was arched against his chest and your head was pulled back to rest on his shoulder. And you’re thankful for all those years of ballet for your flexibility.

“Tell me when to stop and I’ll stop, okay?” He said against your ear as he continued pounding into you.

“Mhm. Don’t stop, daddy. Keep going,” you managed to get out through all the pleasure. Harry’s brows lifted, surprised by the slip up. He looked at you and you didn’t seem to notice, so he lifted his hand to go around your neck, squeezing lightly, which caused you to squeeze around him.

“Fuck, squeezing the fuck out of me, aren’t ya?” He said in your ear, and you nodded the best you could.

“So, so good. Shit.”

The room was fucking filthy; the only sounds that were heard was moans and groans from yours and Harry’s mouth and the fucking you both were doing was only adding to the pleasure.

Harry let go of the hold around your neck and your hair, and you leaned onto the dresser, fully putting your arms on it, holding yourself up.

One minute Harry was fucking the life out of you, trying to bring you to your high, but the next minute he was going slow and steady, prolonging your orgasm.

“Harry…what are you doing? Don’t stop,” you whined out as you were so close to coming. Harry leaned forward, chest completely pressed against your back as he kisses your shoulder.

“Wanna have you watch us,” he said, looking at you through the mirror. “You’ve been watching me fuck you, yeah?” You only nodded, completely captivated by his tone of voice causing you to swivel your hips against his. “Then watch us come, okay? Keep your eyes open for me. M’gonna look at you while you come. You’re close, yeah?” You nodded again, and he smiled before standing up and fucking you again.

And with a few more pounds, you’re coming on his cock, moaning out as your hands roam the dresser, trying to find something to hold onto, and the mirror digging up slightly from your hot breath. Your eyes were trained on Harry as his eyes were on yours through the mirror, watching each other hit your highs.

He collapsed on top of your back, and you brought your hand around to his head, scratching his hair softly as he pressed multiple kisses to your neck and shoulder. After a minute, he lifted his head as you turned your head towards him, and he gave you a big kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” he said.

“Me? You’re good to me,” you giggled, completely fucked out.

“So pretty when you cum,” Harry said, smiling as if he’s remembering your face when you do come.

“Please. You’re the pretty one,” you flirt back. He gives you one more kiss and proceeds to get up off your back, already missing his weight on you, and he pulls out of you, noticing how wet your pussy was from your orgasm. And it takes everything in him to not take you again, but he needed a moment.

He used the bathroom in your room, taking off the condom, and washing his hands before walking to find you laying on your bed on top of your comforter, completely naked still. You saw him watch you from the bathroom door and you turned to him, giving him a smile before patting the space on your bed beside you, telling him to lay down next to you.

You two were cuddled up, completely bare against one another as you were the first time, and just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Can I tell you something?” Harry suddenly asked. You lifted your head up and nodded it as your hands roamed against his toned abdomen. You felt goosebumps raise on his skin and you soothed them away. “Okay, so uh, what I’m about to say has nothing to do with what we did and how completely fucked out I am, but don’t get me wrong, I really do enjoy being with you like that, it’s just that…” he rambled on, ending it as he trailed off because of the nerves he felt.

“Honey, take your time, yeah?” You obviously gave him a small smile. He nodded, appreciating how patient you are with him.

“What I’m trying to say is...that I like you. A lot. And I’m not just saying this because we had sex twice, but because I’ve gotten to know who this past month and a half and realized how sweet and kind of a person you are. And all I want to do is spend time with you and call you up every time I hear good and bad news, or something that makes me laugh. I want that with you.”

Your eyes softened, taking in every word Harry said. With every word he said, your eyes glossed from how sweet and adorable he is. But you didn’t realize Harry was done talking when you saw his face softly frown; it was then when you realized that you were so into his confession that you didn’t say a word, just repeating what he said in your head making your heart flutter.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, and you lifted his chin up.

“Oh, Harry…”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just needed to get that out because I’ve been wanting to tell you for-”

Harry was interrupted by your lips as you kissed him quiet, hopefully telling him that you definitely felt the same way.

“You’re crazy if you think I didn’t feel the same way,” you said as you pulled away from the kiss.

“Y-You feel the same?” He asked softly.

“Hell yeah I do! Practically since the day I met you. You’re too charming and handsome and sweet,” you reassured him, giving him a peck to his forehead.

“I-I didn’t know that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Reason why I kept asking you to hang out—just wanted to be around you too,” you said, laying your head on his hand that was sprawled out onto your pillow.

“Well damn, should’ve told you earlier then!” He joked, and you giggled, happy that you two cleared up your feelings for each other.

“It’s okay, all in good timing, honey,” you smiled at him, running a hand through his luscious locks.

“So…daddy, huh?” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Better not use that against me. I’m calling you daddy whenever I want to-”

There was a loud bang downstairs that interrupted you, which startled you both as you two sat up slightly.

“Fuck,” you said to yourself, and Harry heard the panic in your voice, meaning that he’s going to panic as well.

“Who’s downstairs?” He asked, following your lead as you started to put on your clothes, so he quickly did the same. “Who’s downstairs, sweet girl?”

“I-I don’t know,” you were telling the truth. You really didn’t know who was downstairs, but you hoped it was your mother.

“Darling!” Someone called from downstairs.

Definitely not your mother.

The opposite that is, because your father was calling you downstairs as you were half naked with Harry upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you rushed to cover yourself, thinking of how horrible the timing is.

Once you two were both dressed, you quickly strategize a plan on how to sneak Harry out. You figured that you could just go downstairs to greet your father and have Harry stay in your room until Richard locks himself up in his office, and Harry could successfully sneak out. But those plans went out the window as there was a knock on your door along with some words from Richard.

“Darling, I’ve brought some dinner and I have some news. Do you mind coming out here?” He asked through the door. You immediately noticed his mood and how much of a good mood he was in, and you still had no idea how to get Harry out.

Harry was completely lost on what to do. Should he hide? Should he wait? He didn’t know. But you looked at him, smiling guilty.

“Go to the restroom and just wait till he leaves, okay?” You instructed him, and all he did was nod, walking over to the restroom and closer the door.

You took a deep breath and fixed your hair before you opened your door, revealing your father with a smile.

“Hi, dad,” you greeted, covering up the fact that you have someone in your room at the moment.

“Oh, darling, great. I’ve brought some food—come eat with me?” He suggested. Richard had beamed at you; it was a smile that you had loved since you were a little girl when times weren’t so rough and when you didn’t have thick skin. You always went to him when things were tough, and he would shine his smile at you and tell you everything was going to be okay. And you really did believe him.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just go to the restroom and I’ll be down there,” you smiled back at him. Usually you wouldn’t be acting like this towards him, but the fact that he seemed like he was in a good mood and that you had a guest, you didn’t want to seem suspicious.

“Perfect. I’ll get the food ready,” he walked off, and you closed the door, letting out the breath you were holding in. You were walking towards the bathroom door before you heard another knock.

Confusingly, you walked back to your bedroom door, opening it and it was Richard again, but this time he had a scowl on his face.

“Yes?”

“Who’s shoes are those?” He looked down beside your feet, and you followed his vision and saw Harry’s boots right next to your sneakers. “Huh? Who’s shoes are those?”

“I, uh-” you stuttered, but he interrupted you, stepping inside of your room slowly.

“Because they sure aren’t mine nor do I think they’re yours because they’re at least five sizes bigger than yours, so I’m gonna ask again. Who’s. Shoes. Are. Those,” he said slowly and sternly, looking at you angrily.

“Dad…”

“Where is he?” He barged into your room, looking around before heading to the closet, opening it as he was disappointed to find no one hiding in the closet. Your nerves were up to your neck because the only obvious place a person would be hiding is inside of your bathroom, and he was headed there next.

“Is it Chris’? If you say it’s Chris’ I won’t get mad,” he said in a more softer tone. It scared you very much how much Chris has an affect on him, and you absolutely hated it.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, which confirmed that it was not in fact Chris’ boots. He stormed to the bathroom door, barging it open, and saw Harry sitting on top of the counter, a worried look on his face.

“What the fuck!” Richard screamed out. You immediately ran towards Harry, putting your body in front of him so Richard doesn’t do anything to hurt him.

“Wait…” Harry said as if he had a realization.

“You!” Richard reaches forward, and despite you being in front of Harry, your father grabbed his shoulders, dragging him outside of the bathroom by his blouse.

“Dad, stop!” You grabbed Richard’s arm, yanking on it for him to let go of Harry. Harry didn’t fight back or anything, and you figured that was because he was your father.

“Do you know who this kid is?!” He said once he let go of Harry and placed yourself between them again.

“Well, obviously!” You said sarcastically, realizing that it was not the time for that kind of tone.

“H-He’s your dad?” Harry asked from behind you.

“Of course I’m her dad, you idiot!” Richard screamed out.

“Don’t call him that,” you said, pointing at him like you’re scolding him.

“Why didn’t you tell him he was your dad?” Harry asked. You turned around to face him, giving him a confusing look.

“Why does that matter if I told you or not?” You asked curiously but confusingly. “Besides, so many people only date me to get to him because he’s a producer. I knew you weren’t like that, but I still didn’t want to find out if you were only after that.”

“No, I wouldn’t only keep seeing you for him. But also he’s one of the producers of the movie I auditioned for. He was there when I did my screen test,” Harry explained, and your mouth slightly dropped.

You hadn’t known what kind of movie Richard was producing because he never talked about it nor had you been home often anymore. But Harry told you the entire storyline including his character and everyone on set. And you’re not blaming anyone in this situation, but if Richard had told you the slightest

bit of information about his work, then you would’ve connected the dots.

A scoff from Richard was heard behind you, and you turned around to find him smiling evilly like he had a plan.

“That’s right. You’re the kid that auditioned that one time some weeks ago. Think you got some real talent, kid?” Richard said, looking Harry dead in the eye. “Well you don’t. The only reason you got another call back was because it was a 4-2 vote. But if I were any of them, you wouldn’t stand a chance to step in another set,” he grimaced, and your expression turned angry, while Harry took in every word your father said, wondering if what he said was true or not.

Richard had really deflated Harry’s self esteem and confidence—he barely had a lot to begin with, but he really thought he did well during those auditions. And he didn’t know if Richard was just trying to get a rise out of him to get Harry to knock his teeth in so he could tell the other studios and agents that he’s violent, or because he caught Harry hiding in his daughter’s restroom, or if he really meant it.

Neither of those options helped him from thinking that he wasn’t a bad actor because Richard was obviously superior in this argument and he had the potential to control Harry’s career.

“It’s a shame though,” he continued. “I know people like you. Think I don’t recognize that fucking shirt? I see you dicks all around the city, thinking people don’t know who you are. Really--such a shame. If you wouldn’t have been sleeping around with my daughter, then the role would be yours.” Yours and Harry’s eyes perked up. “Oh, yeah. We’ve made the decision on casting and Shareen was supposed to call you tomorrow and tell you the role is yours.”

Harry was now conflicted on what to feel. Should he be happy or a bit frustrated from what he said prior? He felt a bit dizzy from thinking too much, and Richard scolding him did not help whatsoever.

“But I don’t think the role is going to be yours. After what I witnessed here, think I’m gonna tell them tomorrow that they’re making a big mistake-”

“You can’t do that!” You yelled. It was completely unfair of Richard to do that because what he saw has nothing to do with Harry’s acting. “They’re practically going to give him the role already! Why would you rip that out of his hands?!” You were on the borderline of crying, feeling so frustrated with your father and ultimately feeling bad for Harry.

“Darling, I’m part of the movie and part of casting. I can do whatever I think is right,” he snickered.

“How could you?! You’re punishing someone who could potentially be a movie star! How could you be so cruel?” Tears had fallen down onto your cheeks as you yelled at Richard. You really didn’t think he would be capable of doing something so vile. You knew he had dreams too when he was younger, and to just rip someone's dream right in front of him made you think that you didn’t know him anymore.

“Now, Harry. I’m gonna give you five seconds to get out of my house and out of my daughter’s life,” he warned, crossing his arms.

“What?! No!” You screamed, immediately turning around to face Harry. He had his head down as he sadly nodded. You were practically sobbing, placing your hands on both sides of his face for him to look at you. “Honey, please. Don’t go,” you pleaded. If it were any other time you were begging him to stay, he would’ve. But it’s the fact that your father was right behind you, telling you to leave his home that he couldn’t do anything about it.

Richard had Harry’s career in the palm of his hands, ready to crush them once he stepped foot out of his house, and Harry doesn’t know if he could physically take that. It was already hard enough that he had to leave you, but to have his career being ruined only added to the pain.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly, walking towards the exit of your bedroom. He entered your room excited and eager for two, and now he’s exiting your room in sadness and hurt because he’s not leaving with a smile on his face because he finally confessed that he liked you, and he couldn’t even jump up and down happily because you told him that you liked him too.

“No, no, no,” you chanted as Harry grabbed his boots, and walked out of your room with you hot on his tail, following him as you were trying to convince him that everything was going to be okay.

Richard was right behind you two, obviously enjoying what he’s seeing, which is absolutely insensitive as his daughter is practically crying out to the boy that she likes while watching him walk away from her.

The three made their way down the stairs, and the large house with high ceilings echoed with your sobs and wails. The sound hurt Harry’s ears, not because he thought it was annoying or loud, but because he’s never seen you cry and he didn’t want the first time to be like this. He’s only ever wanted to see you cry when he’s possibly fucking you so good that you become sensitive, begging him to stop; or when he told you that he likes you, or if he even gets a chance to tell you that you love him. But not like that, and he can’t do anything to comfort you at the moment because Richard was pushing him out of the house as you held onto Harry’s arm, causing you to be pushed out as well.

“Harry, honey, please…” you’ve never begged anyone to stay as you were right now. Not even when you found out Chris was cheating on you, you never begged. This was completely different.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again. He had his boots in his hands as he didn’t get the chance to even put on his shoes before he was being pushed through the door.

Richard stayed back with an evil smile on his face with no sign of guilt or remorse when he looked at you sobbing your heart out. Harry walked out to the driveway, passing by Rosie as tears well up in his eyes. He heard bare footsteps running towards him, and he turned around causing you to bump into his chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he loosely wrapped his arms around your shoulders, both not imagining the night to end like this.

“Sweet girl, look at me,” he said, looking down at you as he placed his hands on the side of your face. Your face was buried in his chest, not wanting to let go of him whatsoever. “C’mon, look at me, yeah?” You eventually looked up, looking into his eyes as tears were filled with it and rolling down his face. It was the first time you both had seen each other cry, and you wanted this pain to end already. “It’s for the best-”

“No! He doesn’t know shit on what’s for the best!” Your hands grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to you as if he wasn’t close enough already. Harry looked at you sadly, wiping the tears streaming down your face with his thumbs. “It doesn’t have to be over,” you said, hopefully as Harry said nothing. “Right?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell right now, but maybe in the future we’ll be able to be together.”

The thought of nothing being with you right now was what hurt him as he had just confessed his liking towards you just seven minutes ago.

“This is so unfair…” you said, putting your head down.

“I know, it is,” he said, and you suddenly lifted your head up as if you had a realization.

“How about we run away? Together? I want to get out of here anyways, and then we’ll be able to-”

“Hey, sweet girl. Slow down, yeah? What we need to do is figure it out as we go. You need to figure out what’s happening with your father, and I know you haven’t told me much about him, other than the fact that he never lets you do anything, but you need to talk to him. I could tell there’s unspoken words between you that you need to let out because it’s not good keeping them in. And I need to figure out my career. Reckon I won’t have a role by the end of today, so I need to keep auditioning, yeah?” He said ever so wisely. You shyly agreed with him, thinking you were insane for even bringing up the thought of running away when you both had so many problems still. “But listen, when the time is right, we’ll run away together, okay?” That made your smile softly at him.

Despite everything happening with the tears and emotions, he still found a way to put a smile on your face.

“Just stop your crying. Don’t wanna see my sweet girl shed a tear anymore,” he leaned down, placing his forehead against yours as he kissed the tip of your nose. You did the same as well, and pulled back to kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay? But I gotta go for now—lay low and shit,” his voice slightly cracked from the pain he was feeling from separating with you.

He pulled back completely, disconnecting your bodies from each other’s hold, but having to do it with a bit of force as you weren’t ready to let go of him.

“No…” you said softly as he was pushing away your hands that were trying to hold him again. “Honey.” Harry bent down to put on his boots, pushing your hands away.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said sadly, giving you one last kiss to your forehead before running off into the street.

You watched him as he did, breaking down in your driveway as you sunk to your knees. The hard and heated ground made your skin ash as you fell to the ground, hurting your knees from the impact, but that didn’t compare to what your heart felt.

Once he wasn’t in your sight as you saw him turn the corner of your street and proceeded to walk, you got up from your vulnerable position and walked over to your front door to see Richard standing there with no emotion on his face.

Marching over and making sure that he sees what pain and anger he’s caused you, his expression has yet to change as he stood there with a knowing look.

“Fuck you,” you spat out as you squeezed your way inside the house and up to your room.

“I’d watch that tone if I were you,” he warned as he closed the door.

“Don’t care,” you yelled back, stomping your way up to your room.

You quickly reached your room, slamming the door loudly and locking it as a way to tell him not to bother you or even try to. You paced your room, frustrated as you pulled onto your hair with deep breaths until you realized that pacing isn’t going to help you, so you decided to take a shower.

The shower was warm, falling onto your skin as you tried to let it soothe you. You stayed still for a while, just letting the water hit you until you realized, again, that you needed to wash and clean yourself as you were racking up the water bill.

Once you did your normal routine, it was six p.m as you were getting into bed. It was quite early for you to already be in bed while on other days, you still have four hours ahead of you for work, so it was a change. But you desperately needed to lay down as your head was fuzzy from all the crying you did as you watched Harry leave as well as in the shower.

You laid on your side, facing the space next to you as you thought: just about 45 minutes ago, you were lying here with Harry as you both told each other that you liked one another as you two giggled and kissed. The thought made tears form into your eyes one again as you cuddled into the pillow Harry was lying on, trying to smell the faint aroma of him, even if he was only lying on it for a short amount of time.

And you stayed that way for four hours, only getting up to put music on your record player and drink water. But you lied there for hours as Ella Fitzgerald was playing in the background, wishing Harry body was replaced by the pillow.

Through the midst of being in sadness and on the edge of falling asleep as tears rolled onto the pillow he once laid on, that was when you realized that you didn’t know when you were going to see Harry again.

sooo...how are we feeling? come into my inbox and i will 100% cry with you!

chapter 5 will be posted on September 11!

taglist babies: @froggystyles @outofsstyles @whoschantel @4592222 @groovybaybee @bfharry @wellbafineline @tfonty @bfilipa52 @afire-hes @thorsangel @brrilliant-harry @apples2019 @bbymichelleee @harrys-cherrry @ggaayyyong @heslilac @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @sozvuchiy @mellamolayla

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 22

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: there is a HUGE musical theatre reference in this chapter and i’m rly happy it is here 😉 hope you enjoy this chapter xx thank you so much for the love you’ve been giving this series so far, i love you all so so much !!

NEXT CHAPTER

In any other circumstances, Y/N would’ve been crying but considering Daniel was downstairs awaiting her. She was happy, she convinced herself, she was happy to spend Christmas with Dan, Gwen and everyone else. She was happy, this was just her post first time brain playing tricks on her. Why would she expect the mob boss to suddenly drop his plans to come and spent Christmas with her at his wife’s childhood home? Maybe it was a good idea he didn’t want to go with her. How hypocrite to walk into Gwen’s house with the same husband to be she just slept with. God, Y/N, get your head in the game.

With the bag that hadn’t been unpacked the day prior she abandoned her bedroom, head slightly turning towards Sebastian’s room. Unconsciously, she hoped he would be at the door but it was closed. There was no way he was spending Christmas with the Forrests and Y/N did not know why she was hoping he did. Well, she knew why. She was an hopeless girl filled to the brim with naivety. Shaking those thoughts and the events of last night into a black corner of her mind, she went down the stairs where Dan was standing, awaiting her on his phone.

- Hey Dan. - she forced a smile out of her clouded, over ran mind. The eldest Forrest sibling smiled at her, coming in for a hug. However, Y/N was not much into the mindset to be hugged or to be her regular self so she let herself be embraced with a dazed off look. - We should be going before it starts snowing again.

- Of course, birdie.

She gave the upstairs another look as she followed Daniel onto the lift. She was happy, right? She was happy to go spend Christmas with those who she considered the only sort of family she had ever known. She was happy. She couldn’t be happier. Right? Couldn’t be happier, right there with Dan in the car, sort of like her own happy ending, right? Spending Christmas like she always did. Though it is she admits the tiniest bit unlike she anticipated but she couldn’t be happy. No, she’s happy, she’s happy to be here driving away from the Upper East into her childhood home.

However, there’s a kind of a sorta of cost, a sort of thing that got lost when she left that bedroom. There are bridges you cross you didn’t know you crossed until you crossed and Y/N, Y/N had just crossed that bridge. With an overwhelming sadness in her eyes, a far cry from the bright sparks whenever she got to see the decorations from the car windows, she leaned against the glass, finger raising up to doodle sweet nothings onto the fogged surface.

It didn’t take as long as she was expecting to arrive to her childhood home. Maybe this was due to her need to be inside her mind wondering if she had done something mid falling asleep and waking up that would’ve hurt Sebastian. Did she hurt him in any other way or was he just playing safe? He was an analytical man, after all he needed to be in order to thrive in the environment he’d been born in. Maybe Y/N was expecting regular expectations from a man who wasn’t regular.

- You’re very quiet. - Dan was the first one out of the car, thanking the driver before taking her bag off the back. - Did something happen with Sebastian? I was worried about leaving you alone with him.

- Don’t you think it’s odd he doesn’t want to spend Christmas with us ... I mean with Gwen? She is his ... wife-to-be.

- Dad doesn’t really want him here. Don’t you remember Gwen’s 18th? He was here.

- I’m sure I would remember if he had been around. - however, in all honesty, Y/N had spent Gwen’s 18th, which had also been her 18th, much more interested in reading Pride and Prejudice for the 100th time. - Why doesn’t Mr. Forrest want him here?

- You’re making a lot of questions you don’t need the answer to, birdie.

- Why do you always leave me in the dark? I’m 24, I’m not exactly a child anymore. - she crossed her arms, annoyed at the lack of responses to her questions. Maybe it was the newly found annoyance at everything that gave her the chops to stand up and ask for some answers.

- You are not in the mob, Y/N. You don’t get to ask questions and you certainly don’t get to have the answers. - he harshly opened the door, allowing her to come inside and see the same sights she saw every single year. How come she didn’t feel as excited as she should? The decorations seemed prettier and shinier in her mind and the once environment she was sad not to return to, she was now sad to be in. It just felt empty.

- Where is the staff? - she looked around, noticing the substantially lack of people running around despite for a few bodyguards.

- Gwen gave them Christmas off. - Dan shrugged. - I guess she’s preparing herself to be a housewife.

- I seriously doubt that. - she muttered under her breathe before grabbing her bag and climbing up to her bedroom. It was mostly unchanged, like a picture frame of what her life had been like before she had met him. Well, turns out she might have met him prior but Gwen’s and her 18th birthday had been a mostly chaotic experience so maybe her brain had compartalised that far far away from her.

Sitting down in her bed she let out a huff. God what did she want? First she wanted to spend Christmas like she always did and when she got it she felt miserable. Is that how people behave after losing their virginity or was Y/N missing him already? It surely had hurt her for him not even to consider coming with her but if Mr. Forrest wasn’t found of him then maybe it made sense. Anyway, it felt like a cold answer and Y/N was starting to tire herself of being constantly left in the dark. If she was good enough to be close to Mr. Forrest’s daughter then she was good enough to get answers.

Much too upset with that whole line of thought, Y/N grabbed her phone from her back pocket, unlocking it to reach for her contact list. She didn’t have many which gave her an easy path towards who she wanted to reach. Sebastian. After convincing herself that he wasn’t mad at her and that all of this was a great misunderstanding, she dialled his number. Leaning her ear against the phone she heard the long and high beeps, expecting to hear his voice anytime soon. However, it never came through.

- I thought I’d head Daniel arrive. - Y/N raised her head from her bed to see Mr. Forrest by the door. - I’m sure you’re hungry, Y/N. Why don’t you join us for lunch and great the guests.

- I’m not entirely sure I’m up for food, Mr. Forrest.

- Nonsense. Besides, I’m sure Gwen misses you. - he fully opened the door, gesturing out. Gwen, yeah, how was Y/N gonna look in her eye ever again? As she went down the stairs with the head of the family, she wondered how she was ever gonna speak to Gwen ever again until she spotted her at the table being very cozy with one of the associates sons. Great, just what she wanted, a table full of the same associates that clearly disliked her by the cabaret experience. However, it wasn’t Gwen flirting with the young men at the table or the amount of associates present at Christmas Eve, it was a very familiar man sat next to the only empty seat. - Y/N, I’m sure you’ve met Mr. Williams before. He’s spending the holidays with us.

- Yes, we’ve had the pleasure. - he smiled as she sat next to him. - We are very glad you can spend Christmas with us, Miss Y/N.

- Imagine having to spend the holidays with Sebastian in that tiny overrated penthouse. - Gwen said before stuffing her mouth with a forkful of meat loaf.

- He is really not that bad, Gwen. - Y/N spoke up in her normal soft and melodic voice. Normally her opinions tended to go unnoticed but at those words, every single person seemed to redirect his attention towards her.

- Never mind Y/N. She’s a very forgiving person. - Mr. Forrest diffused the situation with the sort of swiftness that only people holding power could do so. Soon enough, everyone was too distracted in their own affairs and conversations to really care about Y/N. She didn’t care much about being invisible, in all honesty, her expectation in life was to be invisible and so far she was good at it. Invisible people don’t deal with conflicts ... well at least not physical conflicts as she has mental conflicts galore.

The meal took a rather long time to finish with people laughing and stopping to comment on various issues and she had to admit not having the staff to speak to was a bit boring. Yet again, Y/N was already quite uncomfortable being next to Mr. Williams and the weird aura he always let through, so she had spent most of her lunch checking her phone for any new messages, any new calls but there were none to be seen. He was probably busy, he was a busy important man.

- ... no, there’s no need. Y/N can take the dishes into the kitchen. - her name being spoken by Gwen made her raise her gaze from her phone onto the table and Gwen. - Right?

- Gwen ... - Daniel warned, voice low but still laced with threat. In normal situations, she would’ve recognised it, but the heiress was much too intoxicated with champagne.

- What? It’s not like she’s part of the family, she’s staff. - she added and in that moment Y/N felt a bit less guilty she had slept with her husband to be.

- Genevieve, that’s rude. - Mr. Forrest added.

- What? It’s true, she’s a handmaid.

- Gwen ... - Daniel returned with that same threatening voice but Y/N found it rather hypocritical coming from the same man who just a second ago had shot all her questions down in a rather rude manner.

- It’s alright. - Y/N stood up and started collecting all the plates, stacking them together on top of her arms.

Gwen was right, at the end of the day this wasn’t her family. They had raised her but they weren’t her family at the end of the day. She was just a handmaid. She wasn’t part of the mob, she was a handmaid. A handmaid. She never thought about the word itself for too long, always considering herself a friend but at the end of the day she was a subordinate to everyone and that was what she would always be.

Words can hurt and these words had cut through her. Not even Sebastian seemed to want to actually pick up her calls. Maybe Gwen was right, she was a handmaid and that was what she was always gonna be.

She put the dishes on the sink, taking them one by one to dispose of the food scraps and start scrubbing them. She looked down at her soapy hands and then at the metal kettle on her side, noticing her reflection in it. The tendrils flying in front of her head and the soap suds made her look exactly like the staff Gwen made her out to be. She was too lost in how she looked in her reflection that the slippery plate slipped off her hand, shattering onto the floor into a thousand bits.

Y/N kneeled down, starting to pick up the shards so lost in her own negative thinking she didn’t realise tears had started to run down her cheeks until they hit the palm of her hand and she broke down sobbing in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by the shards of porcelain which once were a plate.

Just a handmaid. Out of the sudden, it seemed to her that she had finally realised what she was. A subservient. At that point, Y/N wondered if that what she was to Sebastian too, a submissive creature which he could do with as she pleased.

- It’s just a plate, there’s really no need for there to be any tears about it. - she immediately straightened her posture, returning to her standing position.

- Mr. Williams.

- It’s really unfair, isn’t it? - he circled her, leaning against a opposite marbled surface in the kitchen. - People like us getting treated like dirt by the top ones.

- I’d really rather not speak about it. - she smiled softly, hoping he would leave. - It’s really no issue, I enjoy doing the dishes anyway.

- It hurts, doesn’t it, Miss Y/N? To know that she’s the one who is going to walk down the isle and you’re gonna be in the sideline.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. I really need to return to the dishes.

- You and Mr. Stan aren’t fooling anyone. Maybe Genevieve, but you’re definitely not fooling me, birdie. You’re not the mistress type.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @captainchrisstan @lookiamtrying @sarge-barnes-sir @stuffforreferences @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen

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farfromharry · 3 years

Text

always (part six) | harry holland series

summary: you finally give birth to your little angel, reveal her special name to harry and let the holland family hold her

word count - 3.3k

warnings - language? , mentions of birth

Being 9 months pregnant was ridiculously difficult. You yourself felt like the child, rather than the one you were carrying, at this point. You couldn’t do anything without someone else to help you. The Hollands had been utter angels to you, helping you with every little thing to make sure you were completely prepared to give birth.

“How you feeling today, mama?” Tom teased as you entered the kitchen to fulfill, yet another craving.

“Tired, and huge.” You whined, pouting at the oldest Holland. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and hugged you.

“Not long now, then you’ll have your adorable little girl.” You nodded your head, smiling at the thought.

“Feels like it’s taking forever.” You complained.

“Why don’t you go take a nap?” You nodded, thanking Tom before heading upstairs to Harry’s room. You weren’t sure where he was, assuming he was doing something with either his twin or his little brother.

Little did you know that this sleep was not going to be as peaceful as you originally hoped.

A sharp pain in your lower abdomen woke you from your sleep, jolting upright and cupping your large belly. You took deep breaths, letting your eyes adjust to being awake before checking the time on the clock next to Harry's bed.

You convinced yourself it was nothing, pushing yourself out of bed to use the bathroom before you’d go back to sleep like nothing happened.

However, another sharp pain followed by a gush of water made you panic.

“Harry!” You shouted, not knowing where in the house he was. He ran into his childhood bedroom with a scared look on his face, finding you standing in the middle of the floor, cupping the bottom of your belly standing in a puddle of water and squeezing your eyes shut in pain.

“Hey.” He placed his hand on your lower back, the other lifting your chin to look at him. “What happened?” You panted as the contraction wore off.

“I-I think my water just broke.” His eyes widened, yelling for his Mum.

For the last few weeks of your pregnancy, you’d been staying in the Holland household just in case anything were to happen. It also meant you had Nikki’s help when you finally went into labour, just like right now.

“What’s wrong?” Harry looked at his mum in fear.

“Her water broke.” He simply stated. Nikki nodded, refusing to show any sign of panic as she made her way over to you.

“We need to get you to the car, Harry can you-“ He nodded, taking your hand and being careful to walk you downstairs, stopping halfway to help you wait out your contraction.

When you were finally in the car you noticed Sam was now driving, giving him a tight lipped smile and a thank you.

“You’re doing so well, y/n.” You laid your head on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing his hand as you took deep breaths to try and calm the pain.

“So proud of you, bug.” You smiled, looking up at him.

“You haven’t called me that in years.” Truthfully, Harry stopped calling you that after he met Nate. there was one time where he let it slip, like a habit in front of him and he didn’t react too kindly about it.

“It just kinda slipped out.” You tucked your head into his neck again.

“I like it, don’t worry.” The drive felt as though it was never going to end. You wanted nothing more than to make it to the hospital and get your baby out of you so this pain would stop. Every few minutes you’d squeeze the life out of Harry’s hands, crying out in pain.

“We’re here.” Sam announced. You were helped into the hospital where you were led to a private room, your contractions growing closer together and, arguably more painful, as time passed by.

“Harry.” You whimpered, clutching his arm as another contraction shot through your body. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can, you’re one of the strongest people I know.” He said, pressing his lips to your head to try and calm you down.

“It hurts.” You looked up at him with tears threatening to fall from your eyes, his heart shattering as he had to witness the pain his favourite person was going through.

“You can do this, I know you can.” Half an hour later you were giving birth, one of the most painful, and if not, the most painful experience of your life. Harry stayed with you the whole time like he’d promised you all those months ago, letting you squeeze the life out of his hand. All while he’d whisper words of encouragement and praise to you.

“One final push, y/n.” You panted like a dog that needed water, listening to the doctor countdown from 10. The final push was the most relieving one of all, your baby girl finally being brought out into the world, her hearty wails echoing around the hospital room.

You leaned your head on Harry’s chest while they cleaned her, utterly worn out. The tiny girl was placed on your chest, a small sob slipping past your lips as you stared down at her.

One by one the doctors started to leave the room, checking you and baby were okay first.

Once you, Harry and your girl were left alone, you finally grinned widely.

“I can’t even believe she’s real.” You said.

“Did you decide on a name?” He asked, bending down to be closer to your height. You nodded with a grin, taking his hand into yours.

“What is it?” You turned your attention back to her.

“Happy birthday, Lily rose y/l/n.” You kissed her head, tears running down your face as you stared at your perfect creation. Harry grinned, tearing up slightly as he put it altogether.

“Roses for Lily?” You looked at him and nodded.

“My way of honouring you for everything you’ve done for me.” He leaned down and hugged you, trying to not let you know that he was secretly crying over the sweet gesture.

“A december baby, just like Paddy.” You giggled, nodding your head. You stroked her cheek as gently as you possibly could, feeling too emotional and filled with adoration to even speak. Her tiny, bright eyes fluttered to a close, feeling content enough with being in her mother’s arms to fall asleep.

You and Harry didn’t speak for a while, scared that even a quiet noise would wake up your precious angel. This continued until Harry eventually broke the silence, just to tell you how amazing you were.

“ ‘m so proud of you.” Harry stroked his fingers through your hair, disregarding that you were a sweaty mess as you finally held your little girl. She slept soundly as the two of you admired the little bub.

“Thank you Harry, really.” You whispered. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“For what?” He asked.

“For helping me through this, all of it, I wouldn’t have survived the last 9 months without you.” You told him, tearfully.

“You don’t have to thank me, I would never make you do this alone.” He kissed your head, a small smile permanently glued to your face. Both of your attentions were directed back to Lily.

“She’s absolutely perfect.” He confessed. You nodded in agreement.

The little bub started to blink open her eyes, her sleep not lasting very long, showing you the gorgeous orbs that were the same colour as yours.

“Hi pretty girl.” She let out a yawn, the unknown action scaring her, you watched as her face scrunched up and she began to cry.

“Oh no, you’re okay, was just a yawn.” You nuzzled your nose against her head, gently placing your lips against her skin to soothe her.

“I know, it was scary hm?” The little one calmed down after a little while, entranced with Harry who sat in her eye line.

“That was the cutest thing ever.” You giggled, motioning for Harry to take a seat on your bed. He carefully leaned over and traced her cheek with his thumb, tearing up when her tiny hand wrapped around his much bigger thumb.

You smiled at the sight, laying your head against his chest. You didn’t want to kill the happy mood, but you couldn’t help but let your mind drift off to thinking about Nate.

“Should I text him, just to let him know?” You wondered aloud. Harry looked down at you and noticed the uncertainty clouded in your eyes.

“Did he ever respond to your last text?” You shook your head. Even though he said he wasn’t ready to be a father, you’d still sent Nate updates every now and then, sometimes pictures of sonograms, or sometimes if she was kicking, just to let him know his girl was doing okay.

“Just leave it, he clearly doesn’t care.” You nodded sadly, glancing back down at your bub, you noticed the discomfort on her face before she began to tear up, quickly turning into a heart wrenching wail, your own heart aching not knowing what was wrong.

“Y/n?” You lifted your head and glanced at Nikki standing in the doorway of your hospital room. “The midwife said she might need feeding, she should be in soon.” You nodded, cooing at the baby to try and stop her cries. You motioned for Nikki to come inside, letting her take a spare seat beside your bed, looking down at Lily with a watery smile.

There was a knock on your hospital room door a few minutes later, opening just slightly for the woman to pop her head around and announce her presence.

“Hi y/n.” You looked up, spotting the nurse and giving her a warm smile. “Are you ready to try and feed her?”

You nodded your head, Harry’s eyes widening when he realised what was happening and that you would have to partly undress.

“I’ll wait outside.” He offered, trying to be a gentleman.

“Oh, are you sure?” You didn’t mind Harry being here while you fed Lily, but you respected that he might feel uncomfortable. He kissed your head before leaving the room, going to update his brothers on how everything was going.

Feeding Lily for the first time was a strange experience, but you were glad you had Nikki and the midwife by your side to tell you it was completely normal and you would eventually get used to it.

After feeding, burping and rocking the girl to sleep, Harry came back in, switching with his mother to take the place beside your bed. Nikki kissed your head in a motherly way and decided to leave to let you sleep.

“Nikki, if you want to go home, you can.” You said, feeling bad to make the family wait with you.

“Are you sure, we can always stay?” You smiled and nodded.

“I’ll have to stay here until tomorrow anyway, i’ll come straight to you.” She nodded, bidding you, Lily and her son goodbye.

You and Harry both sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the baby in your arms sleep peacefully. Harry was, once again, first to break the silence.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, in the nicest way possible, y’look exhausted.” Harry commented, stroking his fingers through your hair as your eyes fought to stay open. Lily sleeping calmly in your arms.

“Don’t wanna miss a second.” You whined, looking over at Harry with a pout he found adorable.

“I'll watch her, I promise.” You nodded reluctantly, Harry carefully took the baby wrapped in the fluffy, white blanket into his arms, listening to your instructions on how to hold her properly, then assisting you in getting comfortable on the hospital bed.

For the next few hours, Harry stayed mesmerised with the newborn in his arms, while you got some well deserved sleep after an extremely long day.

———

Harry drove you to the Holland house before driving you home from the hospital the next morning, watching you be completely entranced with your little creation. You were so careful with every movement you made, trying not to scare or overwhelm her.

She was properly introduced to each of the Holland siblings, giving the boys the chance to hold her and just talk to her. The whole thing turned out to be a lot more chaotic than you would have originally anticipated.

“Where does my hand go?” Tom asked frantically. You guided one to the back of her head and then the other to hold her back. You told Tom he was doing perfect, calming his nerves slightly.

Paddy was much less of a nightmare than Tom, not even needing the help to position his hands. He looked in awe of the tiny human that was staring up at him, his heart all fuzzy and excited.

Sam was a pro, clearly having held many babies in his lifetime, probably because of all the Holland siblings he could be trusted the most with a human life. “She’s gorgeous, y/n.” Harry and Tom nodded, Paddy still not taking his eyes off the girl in his brother's arms.

Nikki cried while getting to finally hold Lily, her heart swelling with pride. You were practically a daughter to her and she couldn’t find the words to explain how proud she was of you. Harry watched your eyes grow heavier and heavier, deciding it was time to take you back to your own home now. They were all reluctant to let you leave, making you promise you’d be back as soon as possible, which of course you were more than happy to do.

Driving back to your own home, you were filled with the excitement of the idea of introducing Lily into the place she’d grow up.

It didn’t take long to get there, Harry helping to carry your stuff inside while you cradled your babygirl.

“This is your home Lily.” Harry watched you both, practically with heart eyes bulging from his head. You showed Lily around some more. You were fully aware that she didn’t understand anything you were saying, but you were hoping that just your voice was capable of soothing the girl. Harry was carrying your hospital bag with him as you led him to the nursery.

You had some hesitations about leaving her in a separate room from you, knowing that she’d need you multiple times in the night anyway.

“Would it be too much trouble to put her crib in my room?” You asked him, hoping he’d be able to move it for you. He shook his head no, taking your bag to your room first. When he came back with the crib you could see he was visibly struggling to get it through the door. You felt bad for laughing, but watching Harry struggle like this just seemed to crack you up.

“I’m glad you find this funny.” He muttered sarcastically, pushing his curls out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered through your giggles, rubbing Lily’s back.

The crib was rolled into place a little space away from your bed, letting you lay your baby girl down on the soft fabric of the blanket inside.

“There we go.” You watched the girl quickly fall asleep in her new crib, your heart warm and happy. Harry sat beside you, shoulders and thighs touching you were that close.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Incredible, I never thought i could love someone so much.” He couldn’t help but smile at you, you looked perfect to him right now. The dopey smile never left your face, the same giddy feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach since the night before. A small yawn escaped your lips, Harry thinking it was the cutest sound ever.

“You tired?” He asked. You nodded, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Come on.” You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head like a confused puppy.

“What?” You asked, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Get some sleep, you’ve had a long day.” He kissed your head. You checked on Lily one more time.

“What if she needs me?”

“She doesn’t need you right now, at least get some sleep while you still can.” You sighed before you climbed into bed, already in pyjamas. You pulled your covers up over your body, right up to your chin and almost passed out as soon as your head hit the soft pillow, not realising you were this unbelievably tired.

“Will you stay?” You asked quietly, the idea of being without him seeming to scare you slightly. Harry smiled, nodding his head, laying down beside you. You cuddled into his side, resting your head on his chest comfortably.

“Sweet dreams y/n.” You hummed, nuzzling your face in his warm hoodie.

“Love you, Harry.” You mumbled. He blushed, a silly smile spreading on his face.

“Love you more.” He mumbled, right as you drifted off.

Just as you had suspected, Lily needed you sooner than your body appreciated, seeing as from the time on the clock you’d only been asleep a couple of hours. You woke up to the sound of her cries from the crib, pushing yourself up out of bed and shuffling over to her.

“Oh no, you’re okay.” You hadn’t realised that you’d woken Harry in your haste to get to Lily, the male stretching his muscles, confused himself about when he had fallen asleep.

“She okay?” He asked, voice raspy and full of sleep.

“ ‘m not sure.” You’d already checked her nappy, finding it clean, your next thought being that she was hungry.

“Do you mind if i try and feed her?” Harry was slightly taken back, eyes wide, reduced to a stuttering mess as he thought about you having your bare chest exposed in front of him.

“No, of course, s-she needs to eat, go ahead.” He turned his head away to give you some privacy, finding anything else to put his focus on. He heard you huff, a small whimper coming from you as well.

“Everything okay?” He asked, hearing you sniffle.

“She won’t latch on.” You complained, pulling your shirt up and cradling Lily to your chest. He knew you well enough to know you were getting stressed, not knowing how to help her.

“Can i try?” He asked, noticing the tears welled up in your waterline. You nodded your head, assisting Harry in taking Lily into his arms.

He cooed at the small baby, shushing her and holding her head just under his chin. It didn’t take long for her cries to begin to quieten down, Harry’s scent or presence must have had a strong effect on her because she was calm again in a few minutes.

You didn’t have the energy to be sad or mad that Harry was able to handle her better than you already. You simply rested your chin on his shoulder, kissing his cheek as a thank you.

“You go back to sleep, I'll hold her just a little bit longer.” You nodded sleepily, climbing back into your bed and falling to sleep with the knowledge that Lily was in perfectly good hands.

“You’re okay, aren’t you?” The girl blinked up at him, her eyes curious as she watched the curly haired man talk. She obviously didn’t understand a word he was saying, but that didn’t matter now that she was calm and happy.

“Goodnight Lily.” He carefully placed her down in the crib, watching over her until she drifted off. Harry climbed into your bed as quietly as he could, trying his hardest to not wake you with all the movement.

He froze when you rolled over, accepting your warmth as you cuddled back into his side like you were earlier.

“Is she okay?” You asked, half awake.

“She’s perfect.”

always taglist - @hopelessly-harry @iwearheadphones @thevelvetseries @minejungwoo @siriuslyslyslytherin @givebuckyhisplumsnow @itstaskeen @icyhollands

#harry holland x reader #harry holland one shot #harry holland imagine #harry holland

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