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spacexcowgirl · 3 years

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I’d Lie - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N fell for her best friend, but she can’t let him, or anyone else, know that.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication, swearing, mentions of food, LOTS of pining and unrequited love, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: This is a song fic inspired by the wonderful unreleased song “I’d Lie” by Taylor Swift! mmmm this is my first fic without a *happy* ending and boy does that make me sad. But do not worry I quite literally already have a second part planned oops. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

I don’t think that passenger seat

Has ever looked looked this good to me

He tells me about his night

And I count the colors in his eyes

Y/N distracted herself with her fingers, tangling and untangling them and cracking her knuckles. It was all she could do to stop herself from completely ogling the boy sitting beside her on the couch. He was positioned towards her, one leg bent at the knee and resting between them on the couch. His hands moved back and forth wildly as he spoke, recounting some story that had happened during quidditch practice that night.

“Are you even listening?” George cut himself off, his tone light. When Y/N snapped her head up to look at him, she found that he was smiling, but still he looked a bit offended.

“‘course I’m listening.” Y/N reassured quickly, her eyes finally meeting his. That was all it took, and suddenly she was being reeled into those chocolate brown eyes, drowning in their various shades and hues, with no way out.

Y/N wasn’t sure when her feelings for her best friend shifted from friendly to something more. It was as if one day his messy hair transformed from something to giggle and roll her eyes at to something to swoon over. When his pranks made her admire his genius rather than scold the disturbance they caused. When his incessant teasing shifted from mild annoyance to exuberant joy from receiving any attention from him. Of course, these shifts all happened slowly, over a period of time, but the realization of them hit Y/N all at once. She was head over heels for the boy, and she hadn’t even realized she had been falling.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d be convinced that someone was slipping her a love potion. Or, maybe, she just hoped that, because Godric would it be less embarrassing than the reality of things. Because the reality was, Y/N really had just fallen for George Weasley, no potions or gimmicks needed, and while she was irrevocably in love with him, he had no clue.

“Seems like you zoned out for a second,” George lightly nudged her with his elbow, although a glowing smile remained illuminated on his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just…” Y/N racked her brain for an excuse, something believable, because she knew George could always see right through her. “Just classes, I guess. Umbridge. All of it. I guess I’m just stressed out.”

“So you’ve been letting me carry on about quidditch?” George sounded shocked, but his teasing smile was comforting. “Please, love, if you need something to take your mind off things, you should’ve just said so.”

Without Y/N even having to tell him what she needed, he was up and off the couch, rushing towards the boys’ dormitory steps. Y/N only had a moment to furrow her brows, before George was rushing back down them with a jumper in one hand and a bag of sugar quills, her favorite, in the other. Y/N exhaled a deep sigh, before the involuntary glow and warmth overtook her. Because no matter how much she longed to only view George as a friend, everything about him permeated her subconscious, lamenting and solidifying his place as more.

He’ll never fall in love he swears

As he runs his fingers through his hair

I’m laughing ‘cause I hope he’s wrong

Y/N and George walked side by side down the corridor, laughter bubbling from both of their chests. Y/N adored moments like these, when she could forget everything for just a moment and just bask in the presence of her favorite person. Ultimately, they always were ruined by her feelings hitting her like a truck, or by someone coming to steal him away, so she always tried to live in those few peaceful moments for as long as she could.

George nudged her with his elbow after making a joke, and just as she was about to respond she noticed the change in his demeanor. He was no longer laughing, but instead a small smirk had appeared on his face as he nodded a few feet ahead of them. Y/N followed his gaze, her eyes landing upon his twin brother leaned casually against the wall. In front of him was Angelina, his girlfriend, rocking on her heels as she giggled at something he said.

“Sickening, aren’t they?” George prodded, shaking his head a bit as Fred swooped down to steal a kiss on her lips.

“I think they’re cute.” Y/N tugged her books into her chest, tilting her head to the side as she watched the love-stricken couple. Angelina could have a tough exterior, and Fred could be a lot to handle, but they just got each other so well. Y/N would never say it aloud, but she envied them.

“You would think so,” George scoffed lightly. “You don’t have to listen to him ramble on about her every bloody second of the day.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Y/N teased, turning her body away from the couple to face George instead.

“Hardly.” George rolled his eyes, shifting his books into one arm. He slowly raked his fingers through his newly cut hair as he spoke again, entrancing Y/N entirely. “Love’s just not in the cards for me right now. Someone’s gotta worry about products, and about making Umbridge’s day as awful as possible.”

Y/N laughed at his joke, although she felt a little sting in her heart. Sure, he had said ‘right now,’ and perhaps that should have incited some hope in her, but it didn’t. It just made her chest ache. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t just drop it. She had to push on, test her luck and hope that George would offer her any sort of solace.

“Come on, I think it would be nice.” Her voice was quiet, and she found she suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. “Someone you could share everything with? Yanno, they could just be like… your person.”

George seemed to mull over her words for a moment, before swinging his arm around her shoulder and continuing to push down the corridor.

“Well, I already have you for that, right?” George beamed down at her. “Why would I need a girlfriend? You’re already my person.”

Y/N was certain her heartbreak could be heard throughout the school.

He looks around the room

Innocently overlooks the truth

Shouldn’t a light go on?

Doesn’t he know that I’ve had him memorized for so long?

The party was in full swing, blinding lights and near deafening music. It was risky, what with Umbridge slinking around every corner, desperate to give students a detention, but they needed this. Something about this year felt different, and not in a good way, and Fred and George knew one of their infamous parties was just small way to lift spirits.

Y/N scanned the crowd of people, nursing sips of her firewhisky every few moments. Parties weren’t necessarily her thing, but she couldn’t deny that she needed to unwind. As her eyes finally fell upon their desired target, she couldn’t help the warmth that bubbled in her chest or the smile that involuntarily rose on her lips. Once George met her gaze, he shot her a wink and beckoned her over, and she was quick to oblige.

“Having fun, darling?” George rested his weight against her, clearly much more drunk than she was.

“A bit,” Y/N giggled. “Not as much as you, I reckon.”

“What’s that s’pose to mean?” George slurred, giving her a drunken pout.

“Nothing, nothing,” Y/N teased innocently, shifting her weight to better support the boy. She wrapped an arm around his back, using it to steady both him and her. “Maybe you should lay off the drinking for now though, what d’ya think?”

“Fineeeee.” George elongated the last vowel before grinning down at the girl. “Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

Y/N hummed in response, a small smile of her own growing as she felt her cheeks begin to heat up. “What would you do without me?”

“Hm. Probably die. Fred’s doing, no doubt.” He leaned down to rest his head against the top of hers, shutting his eyes for a moment as he centered himself. “Honestly though, I’m really thankful for you. I don’t think I say that enough.”

Drunk George was always a bit sappy, but Y/N certainly wouldn’t complain. His words felt like a shock flowing through her nervous system, hitting every neuron and sparking her to life. Alternatively, she also felt completely useless in producing a response.

“Godric, I really do have the best friend in the world.” He hummed.

And just like that, the shock was sucked from her body and she was left feeling nothing but empty.

He sees everything black and white

Never let nobody see him cry

I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine

Y/N had searched for George for hours. After Gryffindors win over Slytherin, what should have been a wonderful celebration quickly went south. Y/N had watched from the stands as three team members held Fred back and Harry loosely clung to George, as both boys attempted to charge Draco. Of course, she couldn’t hear whatever he said that got the two so worked up, but from the look on George’s face she was certain it must have been bad. Everything seemed to move in slow motion once she saw Harry let go of George, and she watched with bated breath and wide eyes as he lunged at the Slytherin boy.

Of course, she had heard about the twins’ and Harry’s lifetime ban from Quidditch, and she knew George must be feeling awful now. So, she had to find him. Even if he didn’t want to see her, or anyone, she had to be there for him.

She had checked just about every spot in the castle she could think of, sighing profusely each time that she came up empty. Fred and George knew the hidden corridors and passageways of the school better than anyone, and she was certain he had used that to his advantage.

Just as she was about to give up, she decided to check one last spot that she knew of. She crept slowly up to the seventh floor, careful to make sure no one was following her. She paced back and forth three times, just as she had been taught, and breathed a sigh of relief when the door appeared. Quietly, she pushed it open, and her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of the familiar head of red hair. She had found him.

It didn’t appear he had heard her come in, and she used that to her advantage as she slowly surveyed the room. She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces as she took in the familiar sight of the burrow living room and heard George’s quiet sobs from his place before the fire. After the day he had, all he wanted was the warmth of his home.

“Georgie?” Y/N whispered quietly, letting the door shut behind her.

Immediately, George straightened up and wiped at his eyes. She had never seen him cry before, and she knew there was a reason for that. Fred and him both felt they had to be strong all the time, they had to be the ones cracking jokes and making people laugh even when it was hard for them. When he glanced back, his face was red and splotchy, but a forced smile was plastered on his face.

“Hey, darling.” His voice sounded scratchy, and it was clear it was taking all of his power to keep it together. Y/N could see that his lip was busted, illuminated by the fire, and she wanted nothing more than to cup his face in her hands and nurse him back to perfect health. “Reckon you saw the fight earlier?”

“Your lip…” Y/N spoke softly, approaching him with tentative steps. She didn’t have the capacity to answer his question, not when he looked so broken and beaten down.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” George swiped his thumb over his lip, and Y/N didn’t miss his slight wince. “You should see the other guy.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She finally reached him, taking her place beside him on the carpeted floor. “You don’t have to joke and pretend everything’s fine, not with me.”

George studied her for a moment before a shuddering breath left his lips. As the tears began to pool once more, he could no longer meet her eyes. And that killed her.

“I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me so much.” He spoke, sounding entirely disappointed in himself. “But, the things he said, about my mum, my family. And then Umbridge…” His words cut off as the tears began to roll down his cheeks once more.

“I’m so sorry, George.” Y/N reached out and gently cupped his cheek, allowing her thumb to brush a few tears away. When he leaned into her touch, her heart soared. “You don’t have to shut yourself off, though. I’m here for you, always.”

“I know.” His voice was soft as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away.

Slowly, Y/N leaned forward and brought her forehead to his, letting her eyes shut as well. Her hand drifted from his cheek to the back of his neck, gently playing with the hairs at the base of it. The action seemed to calm him a bit, so she continued to do it. By the light and warmth of the fire, the two sat in silence. Neither needed to say anything, they just wanted to be near each other.

“I love you, you know that?” George was the first to break the silence, not bothering to open his eyes or pull away from her touch.

“I know.” Y/N spoke quietly. “And I love you too.”

And Godric, did she mean it. But she was aware that they meant it in entirely different ways, and that George had no idea.

He stands there, then walks away

My God, if I could only say,

“I’m holding every breath for you.”

Months had passed since that night in the room of requirement, and while so much had changed, so much had stayed the same as well. Y/N had felt herself drifting from George everyday, and not because either of them wanted to. George and Fred were leaving, Y/N knew that, and they had to get everything in order to do so. So, Y/N had to push through everyday with him no longer constantly by her side, and she swore it was killing her.

A few nights prior, he had let her know that this was it, that him and Fred were really doing it. She had faked a smile, excitedly throwing her arms around his neck as she expressed how proud she was. And she was proud, but her chest ached and she swore she felt her stomach in her throat. It was selfish, sure, but she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to get through the year without him.

Now she stood in the corridor outside of the great hall, bouncing nervously on her heels as she watched him say his goodbyes to Lee. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but there was already a stinging behind her eyes and she feared no matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, it would be futile.

When George finally turned and took a few long strides to where she stood, her fears were confirmed. Her tears spilled involuntarily as she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

“Hey, none of that,” George pleaded softly, gently scraping his fingers up and down her back. “You know I’ll write the second that I’m out of here, and it’s only a short bit before you graduate and I see you again.”

“I know, it’s just…” Y/N sniffled, forcing herself to imprint the moment in her brain. She wanted to remember his scent, and the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and the sound of his voice. Perhaps it was cheesy, or overdramatic, but Y/N could feel her heartbreaking by the second, and holding onto ever piece of him that she could was the only thing keeping her together. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, darling.” George chuckled softly. He pulled back slowly, planting his hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her. “You’ll be out of here before you know it, I promise.”

“You’re right, I know.” Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears before finally meeting the boy’s gaze. The look he was giving her made her knees weak, and she found herself wanting to spill all of the contents in her heart to him.

He studied her face for a moment longer, but then Fred was calling his name and they both knew it was time. He gave her shoulders a soft squeeze and pulled her into a hug one last time, placing a kiss to the top of her head. Nothing further needed to be said, so he gently ruffled up her hair and gave her a reassuring smile, before turning back towards Fred and beginning to walk away.

The moment was ending, he was really leaving, and she hadn’t told him how she felt. Her heartbeat started to pick up, and her palms began to feel sweaty, because it felt as though it were now or never. She wanted to tell him. She had to tell him.

“George!” She called out, causing him to halt and whirl back around.

“Yeah?” He smiled warmly at her, a few paces ahead.

As she gazed into his blissfully unaware chocolate brown eyes, she found that she just couldn’t. She couldn’t drop this on him, not on one of the most important days of his life. So, she bit down on her lip before shaking her head and forcing a smile.

“Give us a show, yeah?”

“Always do.” George winked.

And just like that, he walked away. And Y/N was left feeling entirely empty.

First thought when I wake up

Is “My God, he’s beautiful.”

So I put on my make-up

And pray for a miracle

Months had passed since the fateful day that the Weasley twins left Hogwarts behind. Just as Y/N had predicted, her time left at the school dragged on horribly. Umbridge only seemed to get worse, even in the twins’ absence, and George was no longer there to comfort her. Still, she pushed through.

After graduation, Y/N was quick to get a job at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, figuring she’d save up her money while she determined what she wanted to do. It wasn’t the worst job, but with the Wizarding World getting darker by the day, she felt constantly in fear. Still, George was close by, and she once again had him for comfort.

Most nights she’d crash on the twins’ couch, finding it easier to get up in the early mornings and go in to work than staying with her parents in the suburbs. Which usually meant waking up to George preparing breakfast, sleep thick in his voice and his hair still messy. And Godric, was he beautiful like that.

“Sleep well, darling?” George rasped out, a sleepy smile on his face. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as a small yawn left her lips.

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, leaning in the doorway of their kitchen. “You?”

“Pretty good.” George grinned, sliding a mug of tea down the counter towards her. Like always, he had made it perfectly to her liking. Y/N cupped the mug in her hands, letting the warmth slowly spread throughout her body and wake her up. “Think I might stop by the cafe on my break, pick up some pastries and coffee.” Just as he finished his sentence, Fred tiredly stumbled into the kitchen.

“You can just say you want to come see me, Georgie.” Y/N teased.

“It’s not just you he wants to see.” Fred winked at the girl, causing her brows to furrow.

“Oi, shut it, Fred.” George glared at his brother.

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t told you about his little crush?” Fred smirked, ignoring the daggers being shot his way. “Elizabeth, that girl that works with you. Georgie fancies her.”

Suddenly, even the mug in Y/N’s hand felt ice cold in her grasp. Quickly, she placed it back down on the counter, fearing she would drop it and let it shatter to the ground. A bit of hot tea sloshed out of the mug, scalding her hand and forcing her mind away from her breaking heart.

“Shit, are you okay?” George had already hurried towards her, but Y/N was quick to brush him off.

“‘m fine, I, uh, should just go get ready.”

Y/N didn’t give the boy’s time to question her change in demeanor, but rather quickly gathered her overnight bag and hurried to the bathroom, locking herself inside. She cast a silencing charm before slowly sliding down the wall, allowing herself to sob freely.

Just as she always knew, she’d never be what George wanted.

I could tell you his favorite color’s green

He loves to argue, oh, and it kills me

His sister’s beautiful, he has his father’s eyes,

And if you asked me if I love him

I’d lie

Y/N felt in a daze that entire day at work. She made drinks, rang customers up, and wiped down counters, but she was unable to think about anything other than the revelations of that morning. Of course, Elizabeth was the only other person working with her, and while she normally adored shifts with the girl, she couldn’t find it in herself to even crack a smile at her. It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault, of course, and she would never purposefully take it out on her, but Y/N just didn’t have the energy to try that day.

When lunch time rolled around and Y/N knew George would be arriving soon, she busied herself with meaningless tasks, intent on avoiding him and saving her heart any extra heartbreak, at least for the time being. She offered him a small smile when he entered, then ultimately let Elizabeth take his order.

As they chatted, Y/N noted the way he lit up with every giggle he pulled from her lips, and she swore she could hear her heart shattering. When he finally left, coffee and pastries in hand, he called out a quick goodbye to Y/N, but she only offered a small nod in return.

“Godric, he’s charming.” Elizabeth sighed, coming to lean beside Y/N. “You two are friends, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Y/N didn’t look up from the sugar packets she was organizing, watching as her hands shook slightly.

“Well, tell me about him!” Elizabeth urged, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Is he seeing anyone?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, finally forcing herself to look up after finishing her task. “What do you want to know?”

As much as it killed her, she knew what she had to do. George deserved to be happy, and she was his best friend, so she had to help him get there. George would never want her the way she wanted him, and maybe seeing him with someone else would help her get over that fact.

“Anything. Everything.” Elizabeth beamed, her perfect smile on full display.

“Well…” Y/N sighed, gathering her thoughts. “He has a twin, Fred, and they run the joke shop that just opened down the way. He’s a middle child, sort of, I mean Fred is technically the middle child but that’s just because he was born a few minutes earlier. They’ve got three older brothers, then a younger brother and sister. His favorite colors green, but if you ask him he’ll say it’s orange because of his hair. Um, he was shit at potions, but I think that was just because he hated the professor, because really he’s a genius. Oh, and he’s the funniest guy I’ve ever met, which I tell him all the time but cannot say in front of Fred. I don’t know, I guess he’s just about the best person I know, honestly.” Y/N sighed, finishing her rambling with a forced smile.

“Merlin,” Elizabeth stared at Y/N, wide-eyed. “Sounds like you’re in love with him.”

“No, really I’m not. We’ve just been best friends forever.” Y/N laughed, the lie tumbling easily from her lips.

Because that’s what she had to do, that’s what she’d always done. To keep George in her life, to make things easier, she kept her feelings close to her heart. And no matter how much it killed her, she would continue doing it. If that’s what it took to see George happy, that’s what she’d do.

She’d lie.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15 @mischiefisbeingmanaged @gcdricreads @destourtereaux @thisismysketchbook @george-fabian-weasley @evermoreweasley @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @sunshineandshadowss

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley

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satendou · 3 years

Text

⟼ makes the heart grow fonder

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous | 2/2

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime/reader/oikawa tooru

⇢ au: 365!au, poly!au, college!au, pro!oikawa

⇢ summary: prequel to 365 days; everyone always calls paris the city of love, but love can come anywhere, especially the unlikeliest of places

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: pre-relationship, polyamory, fluff, kinda angsty, alcohol use

⇢ word count: 11375 (oops)

Oikawa was nothing if not a creature of habit. He woke up, texted the two of you, showered, ate, went to classes and left for practice, which had been nonstop since he arrived in San Juan. When he got home, he would text you and Iwaizumi-- if he remembered between eating and crashing-- letting you know how practice had gone.

Sometimes he would get home to find some endearing, supportive message from you, letting him know you were going to sleep but that he needed to eat or pay his phone bill. You knew him too well, even from across the globe, and it made him smile, the stinging pain of something missing never stronger than in those moments. It was something he could ignore most days, exchange it for the radiating heat of a ball meeting his palm and forget for a while, but when he was slapped in the face with reminders of what he’d left behind, they were almost impossible to deal with.

He didn’t get to talk with the two of you half as much as he wanted, the 12 hour time difference making it nearly impossible to sync your schedules up, but on the rare nights where everyone was still awake and not quite tired enough to fall asleep yet, he lit up in ways he’d never experienced when he lived with you.

It made him wonder how much he’d taken for granted.

He couldn’t deny that a part of him was jealous that the two of you got to stay together. That same selfish part of him had come close to picking up the phone and saying he was coming home multiple times after he arrived in Argentina, the feeling was so strong. But the other half, the part that was equally selfish in a different way, couldn’t give up his dreams, not when he’d worked so fucking hard to get there.

On those days, you seemed to know what he was thinking and either you or Iwaizumi, with near psychic accuracy, would call him on his bullshit and things would be okay for a while. Those days had slowly grown less frequent the longer he stayed away, but the jealousy had simply been replaced with longing.

So when you had mentioned a break from school that just happened to coincide with his very first game, he couldn’t resist. Besides, he wanted some familiar faces in the crowd, and who better than you and Iwaizumi? Or his family, but they hadn’t been able to swing it for a myriad of reasons.

Then you had said yes, which was why Oikawa was standing up on his tiptoes at the luggage carousel, trying to see over the people for a glimpse of familiar faces. If he wasn’t looking at the crowd, he was staring at his watch.

Your plane had landed nearly twenty minutes ago, so you should have already disembarked. So why weren’t the two of you there in his arms yet?

“Oi, Brattykawa, you’re looking the wrong way,” a familiar voice sniped from behind him, and he whirled around, nearly losing his balance in his excitement.

“_____! Iwa-chan!” he yelled, throwing his arms around your necks and sending you faltering backwards.

Only Iwaizumi’s strength kept the three of you up, his arm wrapped around your waist and legs braced under Oikawa’s weight.

“You damn idiot, quit making a scene,” he snapped, but only pushed his friend back far enough to rebalance before squeezing him tight, his fingers curled in the back of the thin t-shirt Oikawa wore.

Your free arm came up around him as well, not nearly as strong but just as familiar and welcome and even though you all secretly swore you wouldn’t cry, tears still spilled over. The feeling of relief, of being whole again was overwhelming, and you linked your fingers with theirs as you moved through the crowd. Oikawa carried one travel case, Iwaizumi the other, and you lugged the shared carry-on bag you had brought.

Coming out of the airport after a twenty hour flight was a bit jarring and, though the two of you had prepared for a few days in advance and even slept on the plane, you could still feel jet lag kicking in. San Juan time was directly opposite Japanese time, so though you had gotten on your plane in Tokyo in the pitch black, Oikawa had carefully planned the flights and layovers so that you had arrived early in the morning.

The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, and you started sweating almost immediately.

“I can’t wait to show you guys around. But first, you’re probably hungry, right? There’s this cafe right around the corner from our apartment that has the most amazing churros I want you to try,” he rambled as the driver loaded your luggage in the trunk. Iwaizumi slid into the backseat beside you with Oikawa on your other side, all your fingers still linked together. “Oh but I guess we could go after you unpack. Don’t want you to have to drag your luggage everywhere.”

“Thank you for realizing, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi griped, and Oikawa laughed.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so excited for you guys to be here! It’s only been a few months but it feels like a part of me has been missing,” he said, and his fingers squeezed around yours tighter. It was exactly how you had been feeling since he left, like things were off kilter.

The conversation after that was mostly questions about the flights and the layovers, and how the jet lag was. The longer Oikawa watched and listened, the more he thought something was wrong.

It wasn’t...wrong wrong, it just seemed like there was something new and different to your interactions with Iwaizumi and vice versa. He would just have to keep an eye out for it, to see if he could discern what it was.

The apartment was the one Iwaizumi had picked out for him months ago, not that anyone was surprised. Usually when he suggested something, Oikawa took it without question.

As soon as the door was open, you were slammed with the familiar smell that you associated with Oikawa. That light and airy cologne permeated everything, like he had spritzed it everywhere, mixed with the detergent you used at home, or as close as he could get, you would guess. It was a double whammy-- you realized what you had been missing as soon as you got it again, and realized that when you left you would lose it.

It made you wonder what walking into your own apartment would be like.

Before you could get too lost down that train of thought, Oikawa put his hand to your back, leading you further in. Almost absently, Iwaizumi took your hand, letting Oikawa lead both of you to one of the large windows.

Light flooded the large combined kitchen/living room area. He had put curtains up, but they were currently tied back, leaving the windows exposed. The view was breathtaking, just high enough that it rose above most of the other buildings and gave you a long view of the city, marred by other highrises here and there.

He pointed out a large, strange dome shape in the distance, light reflecting off the top back into the city.

“That’s our stadium. I’ll show you around it later today, if we have time.” he said with a lopsided grin. “Anyway, your rooms are this way! You can pick which ones you want.”

His fingers linked with yours-- it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling your hand in his-- as he led you down the hall opening first one door and then the other. Both rooms filtered plenty of light, curtains tied up and exposing the decent sized rooms. A bed and dresser decorated each, but that was it. A simple beige color coated the walls and a ceiling fan spun slowly while the air conditioner kicked on. You set your bag down beside the bed and turned to face them again.

“I didn’t expect them to be this big,” you said, looking around. It was across from Oikawa’s, versus Iwaizumi’s, which was right across from the bathroom and closest to the kitchen.

“Sorry they’re so sparse. I figured I’d let you decorate them how you saw fit,” he said, leaning against the frame of the door. “The master is even bigger, but I said the same when I saw them the first time.”

Iwaizumi stood behind him, peering over his shoulder as you surveyed the room, close enough that Oikawa could feel his chest brush against his back. “Are you sure you should be giving these rooms away to just us? You’ll have other guests, won’t you?”

As nonchalant and almost coldly, he shrugged. “They can sleep in here when you aren’t, and there are hotels around the corner. But these rooms were never meant for anyone but you.”

With that, he steered Iwaizumi back down the hall to his room with you hot on his heels. Rifling through his closet, he threw two sets of light aqua sheets at you and Iwaizumi.

You stared at them for a moment, and then Iwaizumi coughed. “Did you pick these colors for a reason?”

Oikawa, busy restacking the things in his closet, stopped and gave him a quizzical look. “Uh, not really. Why?”

The two of you snickered behind your hands, sharing a knowing look before you held the package up higher. “Doesn’t this remind you of anything. A certain uniform, perhaps?”

The color faded from Oikawa’s face just before it all returned in force, a pretty shade of red covering his cheeks. His hand met his face with a loud smack, and he groaned. “I cannot believe I did that. I really did though, didn’t I?”

More snickering met his ears and his lips turned down in a pout. Before he could start to really get into it, you looked up at him and said, “It’s fine, Tooru. They’re very pretty anyway. I like them.”

Beside you, Iwaizumi sighed, his lips quirking up just the slightest bit. “They’ll do. You probably just closed your eyes and picked though, huh?”

Stomping his foot, Oikawa stuck his tongue out, pulling one eyelid down in a very familiar move. “Did not, Iwa-chan! Don’t be mean or I’ll kick you out!”

But Iwaizumi had already turned and headed back across the hall, missing Oikawa’s childish display, while you tried to breathe through your giggles. “Sure you will. You can try, Brattykawa.”

“Poor ______, how have you put up with him without me all this time,” Oikawa asked loudly as he followed you back down the hall, his fingers gripping the back of your shirt. There was this an urge to constantly be near you or touching you in some way ever since he’d first seen the two of you at the airport. It was like there was a magnet, drawing his hand to your back or your hand, a small zing of anxiety and a desire to make sure you were really here. It even extended to Iwaizumi, which he found unusual. Separation really was playing havoc with him.

As the day progressed, Oikawa slowly began to realize that your interactions with Iwa weren’t just different, they had changed. The way the two of you revolved around each other was new and a part of him felt shut out as he watched you go about your day. The conversations you had, the stories you told, he didn’t understand any of it and it left an empty feeling in his chest as he realized that in the few months the three of you had been separated you and Iwaizumi had started living a whole new life.

“Oikawa,” you said for the third time, and watched him blink as he refocused on you. You frowned, putting your hand on your hip as you stared up at him. He had been showing you around some of his favorite spots in the city with little enthusiasm and it was starting to worry you. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been out of it for hours now.”

The sun was relentless, so you had stopped at a street vendor for some shaved ice and moved to the shade of a large oak tree. Most of his had melted as he stared off into space, making the paper cone soggy and you watched it drip to the grass. Iwaizumi had thrown away your own garbage and was now staring at Oikawa, waiting for his answer.

But he hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain the foreboding feeling clutching at his heart. It had never occurred to him just how much things would change when he left Tokyo, too focused on himself to consider anything else.

His mouth opened and closed several times, his chocolate brown eyes wide and swimming with an emotion you could only describe as sadness and your stomach clenched. When you reached out to him, he drew you into his arms, burying his face in your hair in a familiar gesture, but even your shampoo had changed.

“Tooru, what’s going on?” you asked, feeling another hand land on your back, overlapping Oikawa’s. You turned your head to look up at Iwa, your heart pounding in your chest. Oikawa’s fingers were twisted in your shirt, and you could feel his heart racing under your hand until you wound your arms around his neck.

Iwa looked down into your face, taking in your wide, nervous eyes asking him to help, but he shook his head and shrugged. He had no more idea of what was going on than you did, but knew that Oikawa would explain when he was able. Whatever had gotten into him was clearly big, and he just needed time to figure himself out.

It was a few minutes before Oikawa moved, and you were sweating in his hold. There were other people walking by, whispering and pointing, but they quickly scurried off when Iwaizumi turned his ferocious scowl on them. When he did finally shift, it was only to stand up a little straighter and set his chin on the top of your head, locking eyes with Iwaizumi.

“It feels like so much has changed since I left. Like there’s some space between us now that wasn’t there before, and you two are standing on one side and I’m standing on the other,” he said at last, and he sounded as empty as his eyes looked.

Iwaizumi knew that look, it was the “I’m about to shut down and refuse to acknowledge that I’m an idiot and overthinking things” look. If it wasn’t stopped in its tracks right now, the rest of the day was going to be miserable.

Before Iwaizumi could smack him upside the head though, you piped up, voice small and fragile as you clung tighter to Oikawa. All the pent up worries and emotions you had hidden from Iwa flooded out, and he was a little aggravated that the two of you had decided to do this right now in the middle of ninety degree weather.

“I know how you feel. I’ve felt the same for the last few weeks, wondering what it was going to be like seeing you again knowing that you have a whole new life here. I was afraid that-- that you would have changed so much that-- I don’t know,” you tapered off, and then whispered, “I thought you wouldn’t want us anymore.”

He laughed at that, a tight, high noise that carried no humor, but the cold feeling in his chest abated and he relaxed, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your head and suddenly he was comforting you. “Never ever in a million years, _____. You’re too precious to me. Even Iwa-chan, who’s done nothing but bully me all day. I’d never try to replace you. I’d never let anyone replace you.”

And it was so easy to believe he meant it when he held you like that. Rubbing your face against his chest, you smiled. “You’re still such a sap. I should’ve known you hadn’t changed.”

He whined and pinched your side. “Don’t you be mean to me too, _____. I couldn’t take it.”

Squealing, you pushed him away, but he didn’t let you get far. It was hot and your palms were sweaty and it was uncomfortable, but when he laced his fingers with yours, you didn’t complain.

Iwa did though.

“Are you two done? It’s like, 100 degrees and I am melting. You two are such idiots,” he said, scowling at the two of you. His face was red and shiny with perspiration, and he looked seriously annoyed but he was also watching you with a fondness you’d only recently begun to notice. Since that night a few weeks ago, he had been far more affectionate and open, which was saying something because you were already so casually affectionate to begin with.

Poking his tongue out at him, Oikawa tugged you along down the sidewalk with renewed vigor. Iwaizumi grumbled behind but allowed himself to be led by the hand as Oikawa told you about the next place he was going to bring you and about the game in a few days.

“Unfortunately, I have to go to practice tomorrow, but feel free to wander the city, of course. Just please don’t get lost,” Oikawa prattled on, turning a corner onto a street lined with shops.

The rest of the day was spent investigating every one of them, Oikawa insisting that you get whatever you wanted to decorate your rooms and you obliged only to appease him. It was a little uncomfortable having him pay for everything, but you were weighted down with bags by the time you left the last store. It was mostly clothes, so that you wouldn’t have to pack so much when you visited again and some other small knick knacks that he bought even though you argued against it.

Iwaizumi was carrying far less bags-- at least until he took yours-- mostly because he refused to give into Oikawa’s puppy dog eyes and threatened to maim him if he continued to nag. But Oikawa couldn’t be stopped completely and picked up the things Iwa expressed interest in anyway. Iwaizumi wasn’t happy about it but the look of happiness on Oikawa’s face as he chatted with you, the bags swinging lazily from his arm, made up for it, and he found himself smiling.

The walk back to the apartment was considerably more pleasant without the heat of the sun cooking you alive, and the way first Oikawa then Iwaizumi laced their fingers with yours only made it that much better. There was an indescribable pressure in your chest as you took in the city lights and chatter of people around you. The sounds of sizzling food and smells wafting from street vendors made your mouth water, and Oikawa stopped to purchase a plate of kebabs from one as you passed by.

“You really don’t have to do all this, Tooru. We aren’t poor, you know,” you commented as he passed one to you and then Iwa. Grease dripped down your fingers, and the first bite you took was an explosion of different flavors over your tongue, making you groan. “Shit, this is so good.”

Oikawa watched you with a soft grin, holding his own kebab in his hand but not eating it just yet as he said, “Well there’s not much I’d rather spend it on than you, my little _____.”

The wonder in your eyes as they reflected the lights crisscrossing the street was doing strange things to his stomach, and when those eyes landed on them and the wonder deepened to something more intense, it exploded into butterflies. Something in his head clicked as it changed and he realized you were absolutely beautiful right then and there.

“Shit,” he muttered, and your brows furrowed in confusion as he shook his head. What a weird thought to have, and an even weirder reaction overall. Of course you were beautiful, he had always known that, so why had it hit him so powerfully all of a sudden?

“You alright?” you asked, wiping your mouth with a napkin. Setting your empty stick back on the plate in his hands, you picked up your second one. “You look like you’re in pain.”

He blinked and took a moment to answer, locking eyes with Iwaizumi, who was watching him with curious amusement. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve run all over town like this. The heat must’ve gotten to me.

The heat, huh? Iwaizumi smirked, watching Oikawa watch you with a newfound fascination. He wondered if he even realized he was doing it and how long it would take him to recognize it for what it was.

“Oh, well,” you said, your cheeks heating up for reasons you couldn’t identify. The look in his eyes had changed, emotions you couldn't identify swirling around in his soft brown irises, but it caused your heart to stutter. “Maybe we should go home then. You have practice tomorrow and I’d hate for you to get sick or something. And just before your game too.”

You began to walk as you polished off the last of the food, still struck with wonder at the liveliness of the city. It was different than Tokyo, if no less crowded. Your city was quiet in a lot of ways, tame, whereas this one was wild and loud and raucous. It was enough to make your head spin, and you wondered if you were experiencing culture shock. Only the pressure of Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s slightly greasy fingers kept you from wandering off into the crowds, absorbed as you were with the lights and music.

Oikawa understood all too well, having experienced the same thing when he first arrived as well. He had been grateful for his guide, who had kept him from getting lost and probably mugged or worse in his first few weeks there. Now he knew the layout of the places he most frequented, at least, and he mainly stuck to those.

The street his apartment was on was quiet, the streetlamps casting soft light on the dark buildings with the sun just barely visible on the horizon. You could still hear the faint sounds from the main street, but it was muffled and filtered and you were surprised to find it was almost comforting. It was only nine o’clock, and he wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep yet, even though he knew he really should. He would be up early tomorrow morning and busy all day and probably into the night getting ready for his big game.

There was a sudden rush of nervous energy, one he was used to just before a game, and it never failed that it would keep him up for a while longer.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked, gesturing to the TV. He had a wicked setup, high definition, ultra-surround sound, the works, along with a collection of DVDs and probably every streaming service imaginable to boot.

But he looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes that you had failed to notice before, and you kicked yourself for not realizing sooner. Stupid, stupid, Oikawa!

“I-- maybe we should head to bed, instead,” you suggested, giving Iwaizumi a pointed look.

He was quick to catch on and gave Oikawa a once over as the three of you stood in the kitchen The man looked ready to collapse, his hands trembling ever so slightly, but there was some manic glint in his eyes that he recognized as pre-game jitters, and he groaned internally. Oikawa was going to work himself to death, same as usual, only here there was no one to tell him when to quit because it was his job.

“Goddammit,” he muttered, glaring at him. Dealing with Oikawa really was a full time job, even from halfway around the world. Louder, and to your annoyance, he said, “Actually a movie sounds good. I’m not tired quite yet.”

Oikawa perked up from the slump he had gone into and nodded, scurrying across the room to the TV, and you used the opportunity to turn on Iwaizumi.

“Hajime, he looks like he’s going to drop dead. He needs to sleep,” you whispered, eyeing Oikawa. But he was so absorbed in setting up the sound system that he didn’t even realize you were still in the kitchen. “I-- I’m worried.”

Iwaizumi sighed, cupping your cheek. His other hand squeezed your shoulder, and you realized he was no less worried than you. “I know, but what can we do? He’s an adult and not our responsibility anymore.”

Both of you had been with him through his overzealous competition with Kageyama, one or both of you having to literally pick him up from the floor when his knees wouldn’t hold his weight more than once. There had been too many fights and sleepless nights with him about overworking himself and his obsessive need to defeat both Kageyama and Ushijima that you didn’t want to think about what he was doing to himself without someone to yell at him now.

And the way Iwaizumi talked hurt because it was true. He wasn’t, and hadn’t been for months. You hadn’t even really stopped to consider what he might be doing to himself without you and Iwaizumi to knock some sense into him, but it was plain as day that he was working himself to the bone when you stopped to really look at him.

“I know that,” you muttered, but you didn’t really believe it. It was second nature to take care of each other, and that didn’t change just because of a few months apart. Years of friendship trumped that by miles and you weren’t sure that would ever change. “Still…”

“Look,” Iwaizumi said, glancing at Oikawa again. He was still messing with something and in a rush Iwa continued. “He’s too worked up about the game, so he won’t sleep anyway. Let’s just stay up and maybe we can help him relax--”

Oikawa’s voice cut him off, playful but a little suspicious, making the two of you jumped. “What are you two whispering about?”

Feeling guilty at the betrayed expression on his wan face, you opened your lips but no sound came out. There were words stuck in your throat-- worried reprimands and demands-- but you knew they would do no good. Not with his very first game on the international circuit looming in just two days time. Nothing you said would make a difference, and to stress him out with a fight before that wouldn’t be fair, or at least no more fair than he was being to himself anyway.

Picking a fight right now would only ruin your vacation and make everyone miserable, so instead you closed your mouth and reached out to take Iwa’s hand, which squeezed yours so tight you could feel your bones grinding. “Sorry, Tooru, just chatting about tomorrow. Didn’t realize we were whispering.”

Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, though, and Oikawa’s narrowed, his lips turning down. Everything had been fine until you had gotten back to the apartment, but now you and Iwa both looked withdrawn and distant, unable to look at him for more than a moment before finding each other. “Are you...sure?”

The air filled with a tense silence, and once again you felt like a chasm was between you, with you and Iwaizumi on one side and Oikawa on the other, and you wondered if it would ever truly close up again. He looked so alone on the other side, drawn into himself and insecure, that you had to clos the distance to him and took his hand. It created a chain between the three of you until Iwa reached out for Oikawa, and you breathed a little easier for it.

“Everything is fine, Tooru, if you are,” you said, and he heard the pointed question in your tone.

Iwaizumi groaned internally. He should’ve known you wouldn’t just leave it alone.

For Oikawa’s part, he should’ve known you would notice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. But he didn’t feel like getting into it with you on your first night in-- if at all-- but he knew he would have to let you fawn over and get onto him following the game. He just hoped you would drop it until then.

“I’m tired, _____, but I’m okay. Things will slow down once the game is over, I promise,” he said, and you picked up on the thin warning in his voice.

Another tense silence followed as they waited for you to make your decision, and you ultimately sighed, dropping his hand. You understood his sentiment all too well, and knew that Iwaizumi was right when he said it would be better to wait, but that didn’t mean you were happy with what Oikawa was doing to himself.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he gestured to the collection of DVDs lining the shelves. Ultimately, it was left up to you and you picked out something you knew everyone would enjoy: The X-Files. The way Oikawa’s tired face lit up was a testament to that, even if Iwaizumi huffed in exasperation. At least you hadn’t pushed the issue with Oikawa, letting it devolve into a fight. He really didn’t feel like having to mediate between the two of you tonight.

Three episodes in and Oikawa was drooping onto your shoulder, eyes fluttering with the effort to remain open. The hand he had been using to hold yours was slack, fingers loosely intertwined, and he whined when you pulled away, reaching out for it again. But you were pushing at his shoulder, guiding him down to lay in your lap, and he hummed in contentment. A blanket landed on him, the one from the back of the couch, then your fingers were brushing through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and he was drifting, images of the day flickering through his mind’s eye. They mixed with some weirder things, like a giant cat and running through Tokyo away from an alien, and he stopped fighting to bring the other images back.

His breathing evened out, his full weight coming to rest on your legs, and your fingers stilled. Eyes locked on the screen, you said, “Sorry, Iwa, for earlier. I know you’re right, but I can’t help but worry.”

Iwaizumi already had the remote in hand, fiddling with the buttons until he could figure out how to switch the screen over to Netflix, and he sighed as he flipped through the shows. “I know how you are, ______, but you know how Oikawa is. He’s always been that way.” He wasn’t patronizing as he said it, just pointed, making you flinch.

“I know that, but is anyone down here going to keep him from killing himself? You know he doesn’t know his limits,” you said, watching as he clicked into the info screen for Mad Max. The opening title played and you relaxed into the back of the couch, propping your legs up on the coffee table.

He sighed, eyes fixated on Charlize Theron coming down on her platform. He loved that movie, watching it almost as often as Godzilla. “Yeah, I do know. But there’s nothing we can do, is there? He’s halfway around the world from us and texting him about it will only get ignored.” His arm came down around your shoulders, squeezing you to his side, and you let your head fall to his shoulder. “He’ll be alright, _____. Once this game is over, he should settle down. He’s probably just desperate to make a good impression.”

You chuckled at that as you watched the movie, Iwa’s warmth surrounding you and the steady rise of fall of Oikawa’s shoulders lulling you into a stupor. You knew he was right because Oikawa had always been like that-- desperate, for some reason, to make sure everyone knew he was worthy of the praise he received. As if you didn’t already think he was.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until Iwaizumi was nudging your shoulder. The weight on your legs was gone and you jerked awake to find Oikawa sitting up, rubbing his eyes and glaring at Iwaizumi.

“I was comfortable,” he whined, draping himself over you dramatically. You giggled, your eyes stinging with sleep, but pushed him off you gently. “Not you too, _____.”

“We should go to sleep,” you reprimanded, letting Iwa help you up off the couch. Holding your hand out to Oikawa, you were almost pulled back down by his strong grip, and heard him snicker. “Don’t be a brat, Tooru,” you said, pinching his side and listening to him whine.

You parted ways in the hall, the resonating click of three doors closing before silence reigned, and you changed quickly. Collapsing onto the bed with a sigh, you breathed in the fresh smell of laundry detergent and smiled as you realized that, somehow, Oikawa’s damn cologne had stuck to the sheets too.

The next day, you and Iwaizumi wandered around the city again, following Oikawa’s suggestions of sites to check out. The city center was beautiful but packed, the fountain gurgling away happily, and that’s where the two of you had lunch. Following that, you went around to a museum, taking a tour where the guide explained the founding of the city and other interesting facts. Iwa accidentally ripped the pamphlet, causing you to laugh at the confusion on his face as he tried to figure out how it happened.

The last place you visited was an absolutely beautiful park. There were people everywhere there as well, sitting in the grass and on the benches littered around the lake. Iwa casually reached out, taking your hand as you walked down the riverwalk, gazing at the serene blue waters, and your heart skipped a beat.

When you returned to the apartment, greeting the doorman on your way by, it was still dark, and you set the ingredients you had purchased down on the counter. On the way back, you had mentioned how Oikawa had probably not had any homemade food since he moved there, so Iwaizumi had suggested making onigiri for him.

The two of you worked in quiet tandem, putting the rice on before turning to help Iwa make the fillings. You had opted for a few different ones, and you were overflowing with rice balls by the time you were done. To an outsider, it would look like too much, but you knew your boys all too well-- they would eat every single one of them before the night was through.

As you worked, you asked, “How long do you think he’ll be?”

He shrugged in response, molding rice around a tuna filling. His muscles flexed with the effort, veins popping naturally all along his forearm, and you found yourself lost in watching him work. It was something you were always prone too, but lately thoughts of a different nature were popping into your head, thoughts you really, really didn’t want to be thinking.

It took him a moment to realize you hadn’t said anything more, and he looked up to find you staring at him intensely. “See something you like?” he joked and watched you jump, your face flushing as you turned back to your own work. His eyes narrowed at your unusual reaction-- normally you would come back with a defensive “No,” or some quip about how there was nothing to see at all.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to see the game tomorrow,” you said, and he could hear the strain in your voice. You were packing the rice balls with more tenacity than normal, obviously determined not to look at him again, and something about it soothed the low burn in his chest that had been there for some time, diligently ignored.

He nodded, even though you weren’t looking, and picked up the next onigiri. “Oikawa is gonna be amazing out there, like always. I’m glad we get to be here for him.”

“Me too,” you said, and then laughed. “Imagine if we hadn’t come. He would be blowing us up right now, whining about how nervous he is and how we don’t love him anymore.”

He laughed with you, imagining Oikawa stomping his foot as he complained about being abandoned. “Thank god we came then. We would never survive his wrath.”

When the onigiri was done, you plopped down on the couch, putting on Family Guy on Hulu for background noise while the two of you played on your phones. Your feet were in Iwa’s lap as you tapped away at a game on your screen, the sound drowned out by Peter’s loud laughter, and that was how Oikawa found the two of you an hour later.

The sound of his entry was covered by the TV, and something heavy settled in his stomach when he opened the door and called, “I’m home.”

He snickered when you both jumped, twisting around to look at him. A smile lit your face while Iwa just looked unimpressed.

“Welcome home!” you said, throwing your arms up with dramatic enthusiasm, and Oikawa snickered.

“Awe, you even cooked. My little housewives,” he cooed, picking up a rice ball from the plate on the counter. He took a bite, nostalgia and longing filling his heart at the familiar flavors. It reminded him of home-- not Japan, not Tokyo, not Miyagi, but you and Iwa.

“Watch it, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growled, scowling up at his friend, and was stopped short by the expression on his face. It was so tender it was almost painful as he stared down at the rice ball in his hands, and then he turned it full force on the two of you.

“I really missed you guys,” he said, and then laughed. “And onigiri, and takoyaki, and Japan.”

He brought two more over and squeezed between you, practically sitting on top of you, slinging his arm over Iwa’s shoulders. You exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi, who just shrugged in amusement.

“What’re you doing home so early anyway?” you asked, returning to your game. You were only 500 points away from beating your highscore, and you tapped away to get there. Oikawa watched over your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your ear, and a shiver ran down your spine.

He was unusually quiet and focused as your character moved across the screen, avoiding obstacles and slashing at small blob monsters in your path. “Uh, they wanted us to rest for the big game. Speaking of which, I have your passes in my bag, so don’t let me forget to give them to you otherwise they won’t let you in.”

You hummed, avoiding a blob only to get killed by an arrow on your last life. “Goddammit.”

Exiting out of the app purely out of spite, you locked your phone and looked up at Oikawa. His face was closer than you had realized and your face heated up when your nose bumped his. He seemed as startled as you and jerked back, his cheeks turning a pretty red underneath his tan. His brown eyes were wide with surprise, lips parting slightly, and his arm slid off Iwa’s shoulders.

Iwaizumi watched the whole thing with something that could have been amusement, but he couldn’t quite tell. There was a flareup of something in his chest, and he might have named it longing if he hadn’t been trying to ignore those feelings. Clearing his throat, he continued to scroll through his phone and watched the two of you shift, trying to ignore the tension in the air.

“Anyway,” you said, picking at the hem of your shorts. You picked your phone back up and unlocked it, clicking into Twitter. “Do you know where our seats are?”

Back in familiar territory, Oikawa perked back up. “Well...I got you front row seats! And you’ll meet me in back after the game is over to go to the afterparty.”

“Oh, we get to party with the great Oikawa still?” Iwa asked, snickering at the way Oikawa huffed.

“Not with that attitude, Iwa-chan. Maybe I’ll just take _____ and leave you at the stadium,” he said, wrapping his arm around you possessively. It seemed whatever strangeness had occurred earlier was wiped from his mind as he pulled you into his chest.

You laughed into his shirt, fingers wiggling against his stomach until he squirmed and let you go. “You can’t be that mean, Tooru,” you chided, curling your legs up underneath yourself. Liking one of Bokuto’s tweets, you continued, “What would we do without Iwa there to keep us from getting too drunk?”

“And going home with the wrong people again?” he piped up, and Oikawa flushed bright red again.

“It was one time, Hajime. Stop bringing it up!” he whined, hiding his face in his hands. “_____, help me!”

Instead, you snickered and said, “That was the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You should have seen how confused they were when you stumbled up to them screaming Iwa-chan, _____ I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Iwa burst into laughter while Oikawa groaned.

“I hate it here,” he said, muffled by his hands. “Why does everyone hate me?”

Patting his back, you choked out, “It’s because you’re pretty.”

“Ugh.”

The game that day was absolutely fantastic. Oikawa was flawless, encouraging his teammates and commanding everyone’s attention-- then again maybe that was just you projecting, but if anyone asked you would say it was true-- and it seemed they won the game without effort.

They all clapped him on the back in the middle of the court, laughing and cheering and, when they turned to acknowledge the crowd, Oikawa’s smile was all for you.

A security guard approached your seats a few moments later, gesturing you towards the set of doors the team was heading towards, and Oikawa fell into step beside you, slinging a sweaty arm over each of your shoulders.

“God, Oikawa, you’re disgusting. Get off us,” Iwa snapped, shoving at his arm, but Oikawa was undeterred.

Still regaining his breath, he asked, “How was I out there? Amazing, right?”

“If you already know,” Iwaizumi said, giving up the fight with his arm, “why are you asking?”

“Because I want to hear you say it, of course,” he answered, guiding you towards the locker rooms. There was a series of benches lining the hall and he stopped in front of them, grinning. “Wait here. We’re gonna have to do a few more interviews and then we’ll go to the venue,” he said, turning towards the locker room.

It was almost thirty minutes before the team finally trudged back out, still in high spirits, and another thirty to deal with the throngs of reporters and news crews who wanted interviews. Finally, you loaded up onto the bus, stuck between Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The whole ride was loud and you laughed at the antics of the team. Iwaizumi was right at home amongst them, as if he were right back in highschool, riding the high of a win.

The party was being held on the rooftop of a nearby hotel, complete with an open bar, DJ, and more athletes, friends and family of said athletes, and reporters than you could count. You were introduced to the team and their spouses before being dragged off by a few of them to dance. Iwaizumi found you a little while later, three drinks in and giggling maniacally with the libero’s wife, Trish. She was telling you about when she first met her husband at a party just like this one and how she threw up on his girlfriend at the time’s shoes. He had laughed so hard she broke up with him right then, and you couldn’t help but laugh even though it was kind of sad.

“Hey, princess,” Iwa said, and you shouted his name happily at the sight of him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes slightly unfocused, and when you took a sip from his cup you were overcome with the taste of vodka. “Oikawa was looking for us.”

“Oh,” Trish teased, pushing you a little harder than intended in her drunk state. You fell into Iwaizumi, who only caught you out of habit. “Are you dating our little all star?”

“W-What?” you shrieked over the loud music, shaking your head wildly. Your hair fell into your face and the sky spun, then you started giggling again. “No, no, it’s-- nothing like that?”

“Are you asking or telling, _____?” she asked, but Iwa was pulling you away, pushing through the pulsating crowd towards the bar.

Oikawa was standing there, eyes bright with drunkenness as he chatted with someone you didn’t recognize, and he waved as you stumbled up. Pulling you from Iwa, he said, “_____, this is Andre. He’s from the Swedish team. This is my best friend from Japan.”

You straightened up, the haze of alcohol clearing as you focused on the tall man in front of you. He was smiling kindly at you, a cup in his hand like everyone else, and nodded at you. He spoke with a Spanish accent as he said, “It’s nice to meet you, _____. You’re very beautiful.”

Eyes widening, you stuttered as you said, “T-Thank you.”

His grin grew bigger, and you missed the way both Iwa and Oikawa tensed to either side of you. If he saw it, he ignored it, asking if you wanted to dance.

Your friends let you go with reluctance, a pained expression on Oikawa’s face as he looked to Iwaizumi. Neither knew what to say-- they knew it would happen eventually, you couldn’t remain unnoticed forever.

“She’ll be okay,” Iwa said, pouring himself another drink. It was his fourth so far, and he was careless as he poured his alcohol. “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

Oikawa didn’t like the calmness in his voice when something ugly was raging in his chest, something he had been ignoring all this time whenever you talked about other people you expressed an interest in. But alcohol made him loose and the jealousy reared up sharper than ever as he caught glimpses of you twirling and swaying with the beat of the music. Andre’s hands were on your hips and you were laughing at something he was whispering-- at least as far as Oikawa could tell-- into your ear.

His hands were tight around his cup, squeezing and crinkling the cheap plastic, then it was being tugged from his fingers and another was replacing it.

“Drink,” Iwa said, sipping from his own cup. “Jealousy looks ugly on you.”

“Iwa,” he snapped, watching your arms loop around Andre’s neck, “how can you be happy about this?”

Iwa tensed beside him and pinned him with a glare that would have cowed him if he was less drunk or less irate. “What makes you think I am, Oikawa? But she isn’t-- she’s not ours.”

Ours echoed in his head, and for the first time he really looked at Iwaizumi. He realized that the jealousy never flared when he was around, and watching the two of you curled up together on his couch never elicited the emotion either. It felt like home watching the two of you, and yesterday was the first day he had actually looked forward to coming home. Seeing Iwaizumi’s spiky black hair over the back of the couch and your smiling face as you welcomed him home had made all the difference to him, and he took a large swig from his cup, the rum burning on the way down before he spoke again.

“She could be.”

It was said so quietly that if Iwa hadn’t been standing shoulder to shoulder with him he wouldn’t have heard him. His head whipped around, swimming a little with the alcohol, and narrowed his eyes.

Oikawa could feel his eyes on him, meeting his gaze head on. He wasn’t joking, the mix of jealousy and alcohol wouldn’t let him. Iwaizumi’s face was blank, but he could see the gears turning as he processed his words as best he could with his level of intoxication.

At last, he seemed to reach a decision, the blankness morphing into a calculating look and he said, “What about her? Does she want that? And us? Oikawa, we can’t hold her back because we don’t want to let her go.”

Oikawa looked back to you and sighed. You were now dancing with Andre and one of the other wives whose name he’d already forgotten, laughing without care. “If she doesn’t want us, then we’ll let her go. But I can’t-- Iwa, you feel the same, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he said, admitting to it at last. It felt like the weight of finally confessing was lifted only to be replaced with the weight of acknowledgement, and he wasn’t sure he liked it any better. “For both of you, but it doesn’t mean anything if she doesn’t want it. What will you do if she rejects you?”

“Then I’ll beg her not to cut me out of her life, of course. And she’ll forgive us because even if she doesn’t love us, she loves us,” he answered, and said it with such certainty that even Iwaizumi believed him. He sighed, clapping Oikawa on the shoulder and, as if the gods were listening, you disentangled yourself from Andre and approached them.

Even in the dim light they could see how happy you were, skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat. A few strands of hair were sticking to your forehead, and you pushed them back as you greeted them. “Hey, guys, what’re you just standing here for? This is a party for you, Oikawa!” You were shouting over the music and reached out, taking Iwa’s cup from his hand. Taking a swig, you grimaced. “How are you still standing, Haji?”

Iwa chuckled while Oikawa took a long swallow from his cup.

“You’re right, princess. Let’s go dance!” he said, and took your hand. You grabbed Iwa’s at the last minute and pulled him after the two of you, his drink sloshing as he stumbled to keep up.

You found yourself pinned between the two of them, the heat radiating off of them and everyone around you making your brain fuzzy. Your arms looped around his neck when you handed Oikawa’s cup back after stealing a sip, body swaying to the beat of the music thudding from the speakers. Andre was all but pushed from your mind as his hand settled on your waist, Iwa’s landing on your other. His back was pressed flush to your back, your chest touching Oikawa’s, and suddenly nothing else existed.

The smell of his cologne filled your nose, mixed with the heady scent of alcohol and sweat. Your head spun when Iwa pressed his nose into your hair, pulling it to the side to expose the back of your neck, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

The song changed, more intense, and you lost yourself in the feel of their bodies against yours, tall and protective. Spinning around, you wrapped your fingers around Iwa’s neck now and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Having fun, princess?” Oikawa whispered, a breath of air ghosting over your ear making you shivered. His hand was low on your hip, squeezing as he pulled you back into him, and you nodded. “I could use another drink. Keep her warm for me, Hajime.”

His warmth disappeared and you instantly missed it and the feeling of security. Nuzzling closer to Iwa, the beat shifted again, slowing down and going darker, and you shivered as the bass thrummed through you. His hand drifted lower, settling just below your hip, and you looked up at him. Both their drinks were a lot stronger this time around, and you could feel the effects on you in the way everything swam. You couldn’t focus on anything but Iwaizumi and the way he was staring at you with dark, hooded eyes. You were sure he was as drunk as you, but you didn’t even realize you were leaning up until he stopped you, giving you a soft smile.

“Not here, princess, not while you’re drunk,” he said into your ear, and you flushed under the spinning strobe lights. You were too important to him to do this when you weren’t sober, and he wanted to talk before you made any decisions.

His words held a promise you didn’t expect, and you swallowed thickly around the cloying taste of vodka.

“But when I’m sober?” you whispered, and it was only because you were still right by his ear that he heard you.

He chuckled, nodding as he rested his sweaty forehead against yours. “If you remember, princess. Yeah.”

“What have we here? I thought you had more chivalry than that,” Oikawa said from beside you. He slid back into his place behind you, resting his cheek on your shoulder, lips a hair away from touching Iwa’s forehead. “By the way, Andre is not happy. Isn’t it great?”

Iwa snickered, kissing the tip of your nose before he took in Oikawa’s shit eating grin. Leaning in close, his nose brushed Oikawa’s. “You take way too much pride in that, Shittykawa.”

“Don’t you? Our _____ is a desired woman, after all,” he said, eyes narrowing as they dipped down to look at Iwa’s lips. The temptation was strong enough that it caused him to lick his own before meeting Iwa’s again, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He was following the beat of the music, swaying side to side with you. It had shifted once again but remained low and resonating, the others around you pushing and pulling you with the flow. Your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and amused.

“What do you mean our?” you asked, teasing. You snatched the cup from his hand and took a drink, playing keep away from Oikawa when he reached for it. You weren’t expecting for Iwaizumi to take it from your hands and drink from it, both of you laughing when Oikawa whined.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you to him while Iwa held onto the cup, laughing brashly. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was feeling lighter than air, and he looked at you and Oikawa, draped around you like a blanket. Love flooded his system, mixing with the drink and his head spun at the intensity. He wondered if he would feel that way tomorrow, but decided that was a problem for another Iwaizumi. He came back to you, arm slipping around you both as far as the could to curl in Oikawa’s shirt.

The party was still raging, and he was going to enjoy it with the two of you.

You didn’t stumble into the apartment until the early hours of the morning, when the earliest risers were getting ready for work, and half-assed the removal of your makeup. Hands had grabbed you the minute you exited the bathroom and dragged you back to the living room, where you collapsed in a pile on the couch. You passed out until mid afternoon and woke up tangled in long and muscular limbs, remaining makeup caked and the lingering taste of alcohol in your mouth. How you had managed not to throw up was a miracle, and the men only groaned when you untangled yourself from them.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you cleaned the rest of the makeup off your face and snagged some of Oikawa’s facial cleanser before hopping into the shower. Flashes of last night came back to you. Dancing with Andre, listening to him whisper into your ear and laughing at things that weren’t that funny now, then finding Oikawa and Iwa and being dragged back into the crowd. That caused your heart to race, remembering the way they had pinned you between them, hands groping at your hips and moving against you. Oikawa had disappeared and it was just you and Iwa, the intense look in his eyes as he stared down at you, leaning up and--

God, you had almost kissed him. And he had-- he had said if you remembered when you were sober. Your heart was thumping so hard that your hungover brain was spinning. The question was, did he remember?

Feeling marginally less dead but more nervous than ever before, you dressed and headed back into the living room to find Iwaizumi and Oikawa both sitting up with their heads in their hands.

“I haven’t gotten that drunk since my last party in Japan,” Oikawa groaned, massaging his temples. He remembered a surprising amount about last night, but most clearly was the conversation with Iwaizumi, and he knew without asking that he remembered it too. Neither of them were drunk enough to forget, but after that was a different story. All he remembered was dancing with you for the rest of the night, your hands in his hair and on his chest, body moving against his, and his heart throbbed in his throat.

Iwa chuckled at that and then winced when the action made his head throb. “Weak. But same.” His schedule was always too packed to get that blitzed, so he stuck to two drinks and then went home.

The door to the bathroom opened and you came out into the living room wearing one of their shirts-- they didn’t even know whose at that point-- and sat down between them on the couch.

“You look like trash,” you said, snickering when they grumbled.

“I’m gonna go shower now,” Iwa said, standing up from beside you. He gave the lightest touch on your cheek before disappearing down the hall. The sound of water running met your ears, and you fidgeted with your hands.

Oikawa groaned and flopped sideways down on the couch. “I ordered takeout already. It should be here soon. I need something greasy, so I hope you don’t mind burgers.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food, reminding you that the only thing you had eaten were some hors d’oeuvres at the party. “That sounds absolutely amazing.”

You put on Netflix while Oikawa replaced Iwa in the shower, the air tense between you two. The words from last night replayed and you were working up the courage to see if he remembered as well when he turned to you.

“Hey, uh, _____, do you-- I mean, what do you--?” he said, and the doorbell rang, indicating the food was there. “Well, nevermind.” He stood up and answered, the smell of greasy food hitting you after a moment.

“Gimme gimme,” you said, taking the box he handed to you.

The shower cut off and a few minutes later Oikawa joined you, groaning as he took a bite of his burger. “Nothing has ever tasted so good.”

You continued to eat in silence, a tense weight hanging over the three of you and the longer it went unacknowledged the more nervous you got. The scene kept playing over in your head, exhausting you more than the hangover, your stomach rolling with anxiety. At last, you couldn’t take it and pushed your burger away.

“Listen, guys, um, I have something to say and I really hope that you don’t freak out but I--”

“Do you remember last night?” Iwaizumi asked, cutting you off. You flinched beside him, eyes wide as you nodded, and he reached out, taking your hands. “Was that real? Is it something you want?”

Your mouth went dry as he moved closer, leaning in like you had last night, and your lips parted, but no words came out. Oikawa shifted behind you, unaware of what you were talking about, but Iwa’s eyes locked with his over your head and he understood that whatever it was, it was promising.

Heart in your throat, you nodded, and that was all Iwa needed.

Your first kiss with him was soft and sweet, his hands coming up to cup your face, and he tilted his head to the side to deepen it. Oikawa groaned, fingers digging into your sides and letting his head drop to your shoulder. Somehow, what he had talked about last night was actually happening, and he fought the urge to pinch himself to make sure it was real, just in case he was in the midst of an alcohol induced dream.

When Iwa pulled back, his eyes were hazy as they stared into yours, hands rough and warm against your cheeks. He dipped in again, stealing one more before letting go, and Oikawa wrapped your hair around his fingers, guiding your face around so he could get his.

That kiss was heavy with unspoken emotion, needy and hot and you reached up behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing back into him to get closer. His arm wrapped around your stomach, hauling you into his lap and when he pulled away, he was panting. It didn’t stop him from diving in several more times, moaning at the taste until he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed and lips swollen.

“I love you, princess. And not just as one of my best friends,” he whispered, his thumb rubbing your stomach through your shirt. You gasped at that, eyes misting over as you stared up at him.

“I-- really?” you whispered, and he chuckled at the disbelieving tone of your voice.

He nodded, and Iwa distracted you by taking your hand and lifting it to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn and then pressing your palm to his cheek. “I love you too, _____, if that’s okay.”

“W-Wait, I don’t-- I don’t want to choose between you,” you breathed, and they snickered at the panic in your voice. Dumbfounded, you fell silent, looking between them and waiting for an explanation.

Pulling your hand down, Iwa set it in his lap, stroking the back of it with callused fingertips. “You don’t have to choose between us, if you want both of us. We’ve already talked about it.”

“When?” you asked, overwhelmed by the information. Your two best friends, both of whom you’d managed to fall in love with over the course of the last few months, were confessing they both loved you and both wanted to be with you. It was almost too much.

Iwa colored red while Oikawa snickered again, turning your face to him again. “Last night, actually. Speaking of which, what were you talking about that happened last night?”

It was your turn to be embarrassed, and you hid your face in his neck, mumbling it to him.

“You tried to kiss him?” Oikawa laughed, rubbing your back. “Oh, _____, you little minx.”

“Shut up,” you whined, smacking him in the arm.

He continued to laugh at you, locking eyes with Iwa again. He looked amused, his cheeks still faintly pink but the smile he was wearing was so beautifully genuine that it almost hurt to look at, and Iwa’s words from last night flashed back to him.

Of course I do. For both of you.

His eyes dipped down to Iwa’s lips and, when he looked back up, he was wearing a knowing smirk. He shifted you slightly to the side, keeping you steady with an arm around your waist, while Iwa scooted forward. His knee pressed between yours as he leaned forward, cupping Oikawa’s cheek before his fingers slid up into his hair.

Your mouth fell open as he pulled his head down, slotting his lips against Oikawa’s. It was tentative at first, testing the waters, but then Oikawa’s fingers curled into his shirt and tugged him closer, groaning into the kiss.

Their pupils were blown wide with wonder when they pulled apart and, when they looked back to you, they found you wearing the widest grin imaginable. There was a pause where no one said anything and then Oikawa pushed you into Iwaizumi and threw himself on top of you. Iwaizumi grunted at the impact as his back hit the couch while you laughed loudly.

“You fucking brat,” Iwaizumi snapped without malice, while you wiggled around trying to get Oikawa off of you. He fell to the side between you and the couch, and Iwa held you to his chest, hand rubbing your back.

Oikawa braced himself up on his elbow, gazing down at the two of you with a bright smile, radiating happiness. He finally understood the ache that had sat in his chest since he announced he was leaving for Argentina, the fierce longing to see you and touch you ever since you had arrived explained by the fact that he was unconditionally in love with you. He wondered how he had only realized it after he left, when the signs had been there for a lot longer than that. Maybe he had simply taken what he had already for granted, or maybe he had just been blind to it.

Knowing him, it was probably both.

Your eyes had closed, listening to the steady beat of Iwa’s heart in your ear, but you suddenly jerked up, looking excited.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriends? Everyone is gonna freak,” you said, and Oikawa snorted and burst into laughter. Under you, Iwa groaned, clapping his hand to his forehead.

“You are unbelievable, _____,” he huffed, but he was smiling again, and you could see he was trying not to laugh. “But yeah, I guess you can. I will revoke the right if you abuse it, though. Both of you.”

Oikawa’s eyes lit up at that, and a mischievous smirk lit up his face. “Wonder what we’d have to do to make that happen.”

“Oh, no. I am not gonna risk that,” you said, pushing his face away as he leaned forward. “I just got the right, I’m not gonna lose it already.”

“You’re no fun, _____,” he pouted, grabbing your hand. He kissed your palm, listening to you giggle at something Iwa whispered into your ear. “Already keeping secrets from me, hm? I’m not sure you--”

“I love you, Tooru,” you said, and he sputtered and turned bright red, dropping your hand in favor of covering his face with his, whining in the back of his throat. You burst into laughter while Iwaizumi snickered, high fiving you.

“Why are you two so mean to me?” Oikawa asked through his fingers, though he was grinning hard enough to hurt. His heart thumped in his chest at what was probably an unhealthy rate for an athlete of his caliber, but if he died of a heart attack right then, he’d be alright with it.

It was Iwaizumi who answered, pulling his face down into his neck. Oikawa went willingly, listening to the deep timber of his voice as he said, “You didn’t really think anything would change did you, Brattykawa?”

“Well I had hoped, since you love me and all,” Oikawa admitted. He was starting to feel tired again, his eyes heavy as he soaked in the warmth of your hands on his back and Iwa in general.

“Nope,” you said, popping your lips on the ‘p’. You settled yourself on Iwa’s chest again, pushing your fingers through Oikawa’s hair. He seemed to purr at that, murmuring as he snuggled closer into Iwa’s side. “I could go for a nap.”

“Same,” Iwa said, proving his point with a yawn. Tucking his arm beneath his head, he let his eyes close with a sigh.

Oikawa was already asleep, his breathing deep and even and warm against Iwa’s neck, and he thought you were too until you murmured a sleepy, “I love you too, Haji.”

His lips ticked up, his heart skipping a beat at the quiet confession. They were words he had been longing to hear for a longer time than he cared to admit, and he sighed again.

“Love you too, princess. Now shut up so we can sleep.”

⇥ masterlist

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous

#iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader x oikawa #.365days #.lmhisj

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davidobitch · 3 years

Text

Traditions | Timothee Chalamet

okay so I’m well aware I don’t ever write for Timothee Chalamet but I really wanted to write this and it didn’t seem fitting for anyone else I usually write about?? I hope you like it even though the timing is like...18 days late...oops

I didn’t proof read this so my apologies if it sounds like a 5th grader wrote it.

anything written in italics is the past! enjoy xx

3 years. 156 weeks. 1,095 days.

That’s how long you’ve spent with Timothee. You love him with everything you have inside you but things haven’t been okay lately, not for the past year almost. Neither of you wanted this to be ‘right person, wrong time’. You both tried to fight for your relationship to work out and go back to how things used to be...but that was up until last month.

Timothee has been busy with his movies and you’ve been busy with your business. With the year coming to an end, you both and to get everything done before the new year. You tried not to think that this was the end. You kept telling yourself that it was only for this month then you and Timothee could go back to working everything out. But part of you knew that maybe this really was the end.

You were just getting home from a launch party when Timothee was getting ready to leave.

“Hi,” you said quietly, dropping your purse on the table, “Another shoot?” you kept your eyes on your boyfriend, watching him go over his mental checklist of everything he needed.

Timothee nodded his head, turning in circles looking for what was probably his keys. You glanced behind him, seeing them in the other room on the coffee table.

Passing by him, Timothee followed you with his eyes hoping you weren’t walking away from him without a goodbye. He heard his keys jingle in your shot and let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, standing in front of you. His hand lingered on yours, letting his fingers trace your bones.

“Promise me you’ll be back tonight?” your stare was fixed on your intertwined hands, not wanting him to let go.

Timothee squeezed your hand before pulling away, “Of course. You know I’ll be here.”

You and Timothee always threw a New Years Eve party, it was something both of you looked forward to each year.

He gave you a quick kiss before leaving the house, letting silence seep through the walls. It hasn’t been long since you started staying at Timothee’s daily. It’s only been a year, if that, which ironically is when everything started going wrong in the relationship. Coincidence? Probably, but you refused to believe that. Most nights you couldn’t help but wonder if you moving in was the reason you guys started fighting almost weekly.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you started picking up around the place, wanting the house to be spotless by tonight.

You have sent Timothee countless texts reminding him what time people will be over and last minute things he needed to buy. It’s been three hours and you haven’t heard back from him. You assumed he was just getting caught up in shooting or discussing work stuff, but when another three hours passed by with no call or texts, you had a bad feeling he was bailing out tonight.

You texted Timmy again, another reminder of what time to be home and asking him to pick up the rest of the party stuff for you. You begged him not to be late tonight, or even just not show up at all. Time was slowly running out and you decided to just run out and buy everything yourself. On the verge of tears, you called Timothee and to your dismay...it went straight to voicemail. You tried holding in your cries as you left him yet another message, telling him tonight was make or break the relationship. It was either he shows up by midnight or you pack your bags tomorrow morning and move out. You didn’t care anymore as you let your feelings out fully for the first time in months.

You needed the drive home to clear your head and gather yourself before having to pretend your relationship is perfect.

It was just barely 9pm and you still had to hurry up and be ready by 10. You called a couple friends to come over early to help finish setting up so you can shower and look presentable.

“Thank you guys so much,” you said as you entered the kitchen where your friends were arranging the cups and drinks, “T’s been so caught up at work today. I just- I love you guys.”

“We love you of course,” your friend, Ashley says as she grabs a bottle of tequila and 3 glasses, “To a new year,” she says, raising her glass.

“To a new year,” you and your other friend say in unison.

The liquid burns as it travels down your throat, warming your entire body. You took another shot before going back to finish getting ready.

You picked out your best little black dress, wanting Timothee to see what he’s losing if he decides to not show up tonight. Your hair was curled, your face was glammed up, and you were ready to black out everything tonight.

You finished just in time for all your’s and Timothee’s friends to show up, letting the night begin.

You were about 5 tequila shots and 3 drinks in when the clock hit 11:45. You checked your phone seeing you had no calls or texts from your boyfriend. You were losing hope with every passing second and you didn’t care to hide it anymore.

You were on the balcony with your friends when your mouth started to ramble. “T isn’t coming tonight. Or at least I don’t think he is. He’s been gone for the past 15 hours and I’m pretty sure we’re breaking up tonight. Fuck we should’ve broken up a year ago. You know nothing has been the same since I moved in?” You took another drink before continuing, silently hoping your friends would cut you off any second now, “We haven’t had sex in god knows how long. I don’t get to see him for longer than 4 minutes a day. We tried so hard to make things work which was such a bullshit move.” You let out a shaky breath, knowing you were a couple words away from crying and that was the last thing you wanted to do tonight. Finishing off your drink, you closed your eyes and let the night breeze calm you down.

“We see more than you think, y/n,” Ashley says, pouring half of her cup into yours, “We just don’t say anything. You know we love you and we will continue to support you no matter what you choose to do.”

“And don’t give up on Timmy not coming just yet. He still has 5 minutes!” you sip on your drink, trying to remain optimistic. Olivia’s right, he still has time..but if he hasn’t showed up in the past 5 hours, he’s not going to in the next 5 minutes.

“I really thought he was the one, y’know?” you mutter into your cup, watching the liquid swish from side to side.

Your friends wrap their arms around you, pulling you in for a group hug. “Come on, let’s do a couple shots before the ball drops.” Olivia pulls you back inside and to the kitchen, placing 2 shot glasses in front of each of you.

“Cheers to 2021. A year of new beginnings and more memories than we will remember!” Ashley yells, bringing her glass up.

11:58. You knocked one of the shots back, allowing it to fog your brain.

“Cheers to y/n, for being the toughest bitch we know,” Olivia shouts as she raises her glass, you and Ashlet following her actions.

11:59. Another shot down.

You glanced around the room as there was 30 seconds left in the year. No tall, lanky, brown haired boy in sight. You wanted to cry and scream and run out of the house but instead, you grabbed the bottle of vodka and made your way to the balcony.

You caught your friends attention, shaking your head as if to tell them you’re fine but not to follow you. The glass door slid shut behind you as everyone started counting down.

“10!”

“Kiss me tonight,” you boldly said to Timothee, “None of our friends are single. We’re the only losers who have nobody. So be my new year’s kiss.” The first new year’s eve you and Timmy spent together. Your first year of being friends.

“9!”

“Are you going to force me into kissing you again?” Timothee jokes as he comes up behind you, almost causing you to spill your drink from scaring you.

“First of all, you can’t creep up on a girl like that!” you swatted at his chest before taking a sip of your drink, “Second of all, I didn’t force you to do anything.” Everyone around you was counting down, “Third of all,” just as the clock hit 12:00, you pulled Tim’s face to your level, gently pressing your lips to his, “absolutely.”

“8!”

You had spent the entire night by Timothee’s side. This was your first year spending New Years with just him and his hometown friends. You felt lost without your usual crew bullying you into kissing Timmy for another year. “What do you say we do this every year,” Timothee nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, placing light kisses on your skin.

You let out a giggle, confused at his choice of words, “T we do this every year already,” you turned around to face him, your hands playing with the bottom of his shirt.

“No I mean as a couple. I want you to be my girlfriend,”

“7!”

“I love you,” Timothee drunkenly yelled in your ear, causing a bright smile to spread across your face.

“You’re drunk, baby,” you rolled your eyes. Neither of you have said the L word before and this wasn’t the way you expected it to happen.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to spend another year not telling you every day.”

“6!”

“Timmy!” you yelled over the music, wrapping your arms around his waist, “You have 5 seconds to kiss me or I’m finding another boy!” you giggled as Timothee turned around in your arms, grabbing your face and pulling you into him just as the new year hit.

“5!”

You were crowded into a small corner of your friends kitchen, having been forced to spend the night with them instead of your boyfriend. Timothee was out in New York for a photoshoot and couldn’t make it home in time for your “tradition”.

“I wish you were here,” you mumbled, making a pouty face at your phone screen, “Now I have to kiss Ashley this year and that’s not fun!” You yelled, hoping she would hear you from across the way. You changed your camera to face here, showing Timothee her middle finger in the air, “See, she’s mean. And so are you for not being here.”

Your eyes wandered to the time on the stove clock, seeing as it just hit midnight.

“Happy new year, baby,” Timothee says. You look down at your phone screen to see the facetime was over. Confused as to how the call ended but you could still hear his voice, you glanced up at your friends to see them all staring at you with giddy smiles.

“Can you turn around and kiss me already?” Tears blurred your vision as you quickly spun around and jumped into your boyfriend’s arms.

“4!”

“Please please please don’t hate me,” Timothee says as he wraps his arms around you. “I didn’t realize the time and I know I fucked up, but you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, y/n” This was the first year he almost missed being your new year’s kiss and as much as you wanted to kill him for it, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute,” you said, shaking your head and pulling on his shirt, bringing his body into yours.

“3!”

Another shot in your system, trying to rid the memories of the past 7 New Year’s Eve nights. Your mind started playing games with you. Timothee’s voice was echoing all around you, like he was actually with you.

“2!”

“Baby,” you could hear Timmy say, but you tried to push it out of your thoughts. “Please don’t ignore me. I’m so fucking sorry,” You could smell his cologne behind you as a warm touch could be felt on your wrist. Your breath was shaky as you turned to face the man behind you, hoping this was reality and you weren’t drunkenly imagining this.

“1!”

“I’m here. I’m always going to be here. For the next whatever years, I’m 100% here. No more long days without you. No more missing date nights. This is my promise to you, y/n.” Timothee says, his eyes filled with liquid.

“Happy new year!”

You threw your arms around his neck, almost falling backwards as you crashed your lips into his. “I love you, forever.” you muttered against his lips, “Thank you, T.”

*****

“Why can’t we just spend this year at home with our friends like we always do?” you asked Timothee as he pulled you out onto the balcony with him. This year he took you to Paris for New Years Eve and as grateful as you were for this mini trip, you didn’t want to break tradition.

“Because like you said, we spend every year at home with our friends. It’s never been just us.”

Ever since he promised to put more time into the relationship, everything has been almost perfect. Of course you still had your occasional fight, but that’s to be expected and it was never over anything stupid. Well...most of the time.

“I guess it would be nice to spend it alone,” you leaned your head against Timothee’s chest as you took in the site in front of you.

The hotel room had a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, dead center in front of you. You’ve seen the structure many times in the past but it was never this beautiful.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispers against your neck, his hands gently squeezing your hips.

You nodded but stayed silent, letting the music from inside fill the space around you. Timothee started to sway with you as your favorite song started to play in the background.

“I would love to assume it’s such a coincidence that Robbers is playing right now,” you smiled, teasing your boyfriend, “But I guess I should give you credit for planning this.”

Timothee takes your hand in his and spins you around into him as his other hand settles on your hip.

The two of you danced around the balcony together as your song went on and all of Paris could be heard counting down the end of the year.

“Last year I made you a promise to put more effort in. We had a hard year and I know I put you through a lot and I can’t apologize enough for that, baby. But here we are 365 days later, getting to have another new year’s kiss together. I thank you every day for forcing me to kiss you all those years ago ‘cause we both know I would have never had the balls to make the move.” Timothee’s voice was soft, barely even audible with all the other noise happening around you. “But a lot has changed since that first kiss. A lot between us but also with us separately. I never want to spend New Years, let alone any day, without you.” Timothee abruptly stopped moving and pulled away from you as fireworks were being set off all around the city. You pulled your eyes from him for a split second to watch the sky light up with different colors.

What you didn’t expect to see when you brought your attention back to him, was Timmy on one knee, with a ring being held up towards you.

“I’m making another promise to you, to love you forever, to always put you first. You’ve been my life for the past 6 years and even though we were together for only 4 of those years, I still couldn’t imagine you not being in my life. You’re my best friend. Mon amour. I want to spend every waking moment with you. I want you to yell at me when my socks are in random parts of the house. I want to have little mini versions of us running around and drawing on walls. When all my dreams come true, you’re the one I want next to me. It’s you, baby. It’s always been you. Marry me, y/n.”

Your hand flew to your mouth as you vigorously nodded your head. You didn’t give Timothee the chance to stand up before you fell to your knees in front of him, falling into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you, T. You’re the only person I ever want to spend my life with. I love you so so much, mon amour.” You cried as you placed kisses all over his face.

#Timothy chalamet #Timothee chalamet imagine #tchal #tc #masterlist #prompt #imagine #timmy chalamet #timothee fanfic

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crescentsteel · 4 years

Text

Just Friends - Part 5

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo as a university student, model fem reader warnings: a bit angsty I guess? word count: 5100

A/N: - Thank you so much for those who reblogged every...freaking...chapter I- - Special thanks to @cherryonigiri for the shoutout last week. ur too kind :( - I’ve been writing every single night since Chapter 1, and I can feel the burnout coming. So it might (MIGHT) take longer to finish the next one. - Should I do a taglist or sumthin? I remember someone asking before but didn’t go through it cause I don’t think a lot are interested lol

Part 4 | Part 6 | m.list

“We got the shots. Thanks everyone!” The creative director, Mitsuki, wraps up the shoot. ‘Thank God,’ you thought. You head to the dressing room and change into your own clothes.

Mitsuki goes to you after you change. You’ve worked with her several times since she’s well-known in the industry. You like her because he’s approachable and is easy to work with. You often share nonwork-related conversation during shoots.

“You look dreadful. What happened to you?”

She just had to remind you that you barely slept. You were tossing and turning trying to not think about last night’s events. You only had two hours of sleep and you exist right now only because of caffeine. Although, your eyes sting and you can feel a headache coming. Still, you’re thankful for today’s work. Because of it, you’re preoccupied with something else other than him.

“Rough night.” You answer lifelessly.

“Oooh, do tell,” she looks at you meaningfully, hoping for any juicy story you might be holding. Unfortunately for her, it’s not something you’re ready to share with anyone.

“Next time, Mitsuki.” You give her an apologetic smile and go to your car.

Once on the driver’s seat, you check your phone for any text message. No new messages. Disappointment hits you. You don’t know what you’re expecting exactly, but you just want to hear from him. He’d pester you when you don’t want him to, but now that you do, he doesn’t.

You throw your head back at your seat. Kuroo has definitely screwed you beyond his bed. This is so unlike you.

If you need something, you get it yourself. That’s how you are and what you should be doing. You can no longer ignore your feelings and expect them to go away. You doubt you’ll be sleeping with him again anyways, given your current state.

You’ve never had this set-up with anyone else but you’re pretty sure that not one party should develop any romantic feelings. You need to let him know that you are confused and you’re misinterpreting his actions recently. You don’t know how things will turn out, but at least you’ll get some clarity as to what you two are. Rattling your brains out won’t give you an answer, talking to him would. He’ll probably figure out what you feel for him even if you don’t spell it out.

You’ve never confessed to anyone, you’ve always been on the receiving end. To be honest, you don’t want to. But to hell with your pride if you can’t function properly because of it.

With your mind made up, you send him a message.

‘Hey. Wanna meet tonight? I need to tell you something.’

–

He arrives at the bar where you first met. That’s where you told him to be. He goes to the counter and is deciding what he’ll have before you show up.

He went a little earlier than what you said in your text. He’s doing nothing anyways and he couldn’t stay still. You made it seem important. Maybe it was about last night.

When you let him in your place, he was really pleased. He thought you could continue where you left off. You were tense back on the rooftop, but he considered it was because of the open space. But when it was only the two of you, you were more flustered. It was so cute actually. You’re always so feisty in and out of bed, but last night you looked timid and vulnerable even more than you did when he went to your university.

Since when were you so threatened by him? There’s no need to be. It’s not like you like him or somethin.

As if. He’s already lucky enough to be banging you, he won’t kid himself into thinking you like him.

…

But what if you do? On the slight chance that that’s what you’re gonna tell him, how should he respond? He hasn’t really thought of it. You’re always so guarded and seem like you’re in only for the fun as well. That was the case until you’ve been spending a lot of time without actually fucking. You slowly filled him in the gaps of who you are as a person and boy, does he like you a lot. Even Kenma does, to the point that Kenma’s been hinting that you two should date. He usually dismisses it as you and him are only ‘good’ friends. Although he’s positive that Kenma’s not buying that shit. Kenma probably knows what’s going between you two.

Also, you’re the only girl he’s shagged exclusively for this long. Usually, this set-up is good for him only for a month or two tops. It’s been more or less 6 months already with you, but it’s never boring, sex or not. He’s always looking forward to seeing you. He likes it when you always have a quick-witted counter to his provocation. He finds it adorable when you let him take care of you. Your face when you blush is just too fucking precious. It warms him up when he sees you genuinely smiling. He won’t mind at all if you continue like this longer.

Ah shit.

“Glass of whiskey,” he tells the bartender. He immediately drinks the liquor, the burn on his throat soothing the riot going on on his head.

It sounded like he’s way past just liking you. He takes another sip at his own frustration. He shouldn’t be thinking this hard. It was just a what-if situation anyway. You probably don’t like him that way, and now he’s upset at the conclusion he came up with.

It’s bad to have feelings for you. First, he doesn’t know how you feel about him. If he lets you know that he does, you might cut him off from the ‘benefits’ of your friendship. Your chemistry in bed is too good to let go. Second, let’s say you do like him, is he really sure of what he’s feeling? Isn’t it just because you’ve been so physically intimate for so long that he’s mixing it up as something remotely close to love? He doesn’t want a half-baked relationship if you both decide to take things seriously.

“Need some company?”

A pretty blonde girl sits beside him. Pretty, but nowhere near as pretty as you are. He checks his phone for the time and if there’s any message from you.

45 minutes till your said meet up time. He takes his drink and ushers the blondie to a standing table. The conversation he shares with her is casual, at first at least. After a few minutes, she’s already batting her eyes at him and bites her lip every now and then. Her touch on his arms lingers when she playfully slaps his biceps.

All too easy. He’s not even trying.

Since the opportunity is here, guess he’ll go for it. He’s definitely not sleeping with this blondie, but a 'lil playtime before you arrive won’t hurt. Maybe that would clear up the confusion in his head.

Alright, blondie. Whatever she’s rambling about, time to shut up. He grabs her shoulders and goes for her lips. She pulls him closer by putting her arms around his neck. She lets out a soft moan in the kiss.

A few seconds, but still nothing. He has to try harder. He grabs her ass to feel her more, to excite himself, to get rid of unwanted thoughts on his head. He closed his eyes shut and focused on the body that he’s holding at this moment.

‘Congratulations, Kuroo.’

Scenes from last night rushed in his head. Your smile. Your lips against his. The warmth of your body succumbed to him.

He can’t do this.

He harshly pulls himself away from the girl. He tastes something vile in his throat that doesn’t resemble anything close to the whiskey he’s having. It’s horrible. He’s disgusted with himself. All he could think about is you. It doesn’t feel right with someone else. It should be you he’s holding.

He thought himself smart, but right now he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s being a fucking idiot. How could he think that this nobody of a lady can take you off his mind? How dare he touch someone else right before meeting you?

“What’s wrong?” She whines while her eyes are pleading for him to continue. He smiles sourly.

“Sorry, but I’m actually with someone.” The blondie’s face got all scrunched up.

“Douchebag,” she mutters as she walks away. And that he is, a total douchebag.

He goes back to the counter and orders himself another round. Looks like he needs to tell you something as well.

–

You came just a tad bit early. You managed to take a nap, but you woke up before the alarm set off. You’re still restless, but you feel a bit better than this morning. You decided to meet Kuroo at the bar where you first met. Weird place to talk, but you don’t wanna come off as too serious about it. You want it to be as casual as possible, as casual as confessing could be. Where could be more casual than the place where you first hooked up?

You can’t decide if that was genius of you or plain moronic, but you go with it anyway.

You’ve already pep talked yourself while driving. You know the words to say. You’ve rehearsed them in your head. You’re ready.

Right when you enter the bar, you start feeling queasy. Can you really do this? You go to the restroom to clear your head. If you go to your car, you might just back off and go home.

You look at yourself in the mirror. There’s no alcohol in your system but you’re flushed already.

“Oops, sorry.” It’s a drunk girl who’s now giggling at her clumsiness. She stops when she looks at your face. “Oh deaaaar, you look like you’ve had tsu many. Yer so red. You okaaay?” She seems really concerned, but you can’t help but be amused. She’s slurring way too much. She worries for a stranger getting too drunk when she, herself, has probably had too many already.

You snigger. “Yes, I am. Are you?” You throw back the concern she just gave you. She cackles at your question. “I donut know. Am I?” It’s contagious. Being anxious about your plans tonight, you’re more susceptible to humor. A second later and you’re laughing as well.

“Um. Thank you,” you smile at her. She just eased up your nerves without even knowing it. You exit the comfort room.

You try to find a comfortable place to seat yourself when you see Kuroo talking with a blonde girl. He doesn’t look interested at all, but you notice her touching him flirtatiously. You don’t do anything. Why should you? That’s up to Kuroo. Any moment now and he should be shoving her away. He’s meeting you after all.

You keep watching and waiting, until he puts his drink on the table and does the complete opposite of what you’re expecting. Your feet stay planted on the ground as everything unfolds right before your eyes, everything getting worse as seconds tick by. They’re basically clinging onto each other with her arms around him and his hands on her waist, all while engaged in intense lip-locking. He looks really into it. His hands travel down to the girl’s butt, and that’s about it for you.

You turn on your heels and make your way to the door. You feel like actually throwing up. Not only that, you’re suffocating as well. The neon lights make you dizzy. The music makes your ears ring. Every damn thing about this place hurts.

“Watch it!” you hear someone say, but you ignore it. You’ve been bumping into people while you scamper your way to the exit. You don’t care. You need to get out of here fast. You can’t stand it.

The exit is just a foot away. You extend your hand at the doorknob and hurl your body to make it outside. The fresh air was piercing against your lungs, reminding you how much of a reality was the scene you just witnessed. The relief you’re expecting and longing for doesn’t come.

Sadly, you can’t just stand there while people are passing you by as they enter the place. You need to go.

Each step you take is heavy. Each step vibrates through your whole body. You couldn’t process anything. The only thing you know is you want to go home. You want to be alone. You want to scream.

“Y.n.?”

Perfect. Just perfect. The flood of emotions surge through you when you see Kenma. What’s he even doing here?

“Have you seen Kuroo?” He says something after but you can only make out certain words.

Keys. Meet. Okay.

You want to speak but your throat hurts. You can feel your whole body shaking at how hard you’re trying to keep it together.

“What did you s-s-s…” You can’t finish your sentence. You bite your lip so hard that you taste blood. That would be better than you breaking down in public. Still, you can already feel tears in the corners of your eyes. One more word and you’ll probably lose it.

Kenma moves closer to you, studying your face. You try to hide it, but you know that anyone with two functional eyes can see that you’re in pain. He looks around, eyeing for a place where you can talk in private.

“Did you bring your car?” You only nod once. You don’t need to say anything for him to follow the direction you’re heading at. You keep your breaths short for you fear that an impeding sob might escape.

You both get in the back seat.

When the doors shut, you throw your head back to the seat.

“Y.n., what happened?” You face him with blurred vision from the tears you held. He’s never been expressive, so when you see intense worry on his face, you crumble.

You cover your mouth with trembling hands to tone down your screeching sobs. You weren’t aware that you could get hurt this much. The scene you just witnessed keeps replaying in your head. It hurts. It hurts. You want it to stop, but it doesn't.

You feel a hand patting your head. It was oddly comforting.

“I fell for him,” your voice strained from how hard you cried. You don’t want to get into the details of how last night was enchanting for you, how he made you feel things no else had. How special he made you feel. You even thought that there was a chance that he sees you more than the ‘friend’ you are.

Kenma’s expression remains the same. He must’ve known already. Were you that obvious? Were you so easy to read? If he knows, does Kuroo know too?

He stays silent, waiting for what comes after what you just said.

“I saw him with someone else inside.”

“Maybe it’s just someone he knows.”

Someone he knows, huh? Wasn’t that how you two started? There at that bar, cocktail in your hand, his lips on your neck. Tonight isn’t any different, except it was not you he’s holding.

“You should talk to him, y.n. I think he feels the same to you.” An empty laugh erupts from you. It was bitter and pathetic. Like you.

“You were right before. We aren’t just friends. We are fuck buddies above all. That’s why he likes me. I’m a convenient lay for him.”

Another wave of sadness comes. You feel the warm streaks of liquid in your cheeks again. You let it trickle down your face.

That’s how much of a real relationship you can get from Kuroo. Pretense of friends while letting yourselves get off to each other. At the end of the day, you weren’t his and he wasn’t yours to keep. You could easily replace each other. Let someone else warm your beds.

All this time, you haven’t slept with anyone else. You’re satisfied with just him. You thought it was an unspoken agreement that it would only be you two. Even if casual, you thought it was exclusive. But that might not be the case. Tonight was proof that you could easily be replaced. Or worse, you could just be one of them.

Now you have another emotion added to your tray of feelings. You’re furious. He could’ve at least told you that you were having sex with other women. You saw him as a friend. If he was decent enough, he should’ve at least told you that and let you decide if you still want to keep your arrangement.

Being friends with benefits sucks big time. You shouldn’t have done this. You were confident that you could handle it. Obviously, you thought wrong. Falling stupidly in love with Kuroo is downright deplorable.

“Go back inside y.n. It might not be what you think it is.”

“I was going to confess tonight, you know. I was the one who asked him to meet. Only to find him canoodling with some bimbo while groping her ass. Tell me Kenma, is it not what it is?”

You see Kenma squirm on his seat. “What the heck is he doing?” He whispers while his eyes dart to the bar you just came from.

You sniff and wipe your face with the hem of your shirt. “Screw him,” you say.

Kenma presses his lips together, as if trying to hold back something he wants to say. You didn’t want to, but you figure it out anyways.

“But I already did, didn’t I?”

Kenma smiles apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Do you want me to hit Kuroo and stuff?” he adds.

You imagine Kenma throwing Kuroo’s PS4 at him, which makes you giggle. You’d be willing to pay big time to see that happen.

“Thanks, Kenma. You didn’t have to be here, but you are.”

You’ve never had too many friends from your upbringing. Sure you hang out with people, and there were really fun times. But no one was there when you felt lonely. You got used to it. You didn’t know that it was this relieving to have someone just actually be there.

“But please, no matter what. Never tell him you saw me.”

“But what if he asks?”

“I was never here.”

He nods.

“Will you be okay?”

“Somehow... You should go, Kenma. I’ve kept you long enough.”

You both exit your car at the same time. Before you move to the driver’s seat, you call Kenma.

“I’d appreciate it if you accidentally hit him with a controller.” You put air quotes on ‘accidentally’. “Maybe twice or thrice. I’ll replace it when it breaks,” you add. Kenma grins the widest you’ve seen him do.

“You’re funny, y.n. Kuroo is dumb.”

You smile faintly. “Thanks, Kenma. Really.”

–

It’s been months since you’ve left Japan. Now you��re back. You have mixed feelings as you find yourself in the familiar airport terminal. You look at the gate across you. That was exactly where you exited before, with your eyes swollen and your heart broken.

You left because it was too much for you. You realized how spoiled you were in life, always getting what you wanted. You didn’t have any relationship you could call authentic, but in the same way, you had nothing to lose. No friendship fights, no drifting aparts, nothing. So when you fell for someone who wasn’t yours to keep, it tore you in ways you weren’t cognizant of.

You cut him out after that certain night in the bar. You blocked his number, his social media accounts, and warned the staff in your condo to not let anyone visit. You were scared that if he reached out, you would yield to him. Because despite the misery he brought, you missed him. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to do that. You wouldn’t continue to be his play thing while sinking deeper into that hell hole of loving him.

That’s why you had to leave. But before you did, you gave in one last time to your wretched feelings. You unblocked his number and texted him.

“What I really wanted to tell you the other night was I’m leaving. Want to meet before my flight?”

You didn’t know what you wanted back then. Parting sex or for him to stop you?

It didn’t matter though. Since he did not show up, much less even replied.

For some reason, you felt like letting Kenma know that you were leaving. He was there when you were broken, and in a way, he's your friend too. You leave him a brief goodbye message and never let Kuroo know the details of your disappearance.

Then you boarded the plane with crushed hopes and a shattered ego.

That time, you’ve never been more grateful that you came from a privileged family. You left your studies behind and flew to the U.S. There, you continued your modeling career. You began taking it seriously. You were no longer picky - big or small project, you accepted it.

You came back because several Japanese brands wanted you as their model. You obliged of course. You liked being busy and you believe you’re good at what you do.

Your phone reminder about tonight’s event goes off, speaking of which. The shoe brand you worked with in the US is launching their line in Japan. They just made you their official Japanese brand ambassador.

No rest for you. Just how you wanted it.

–

The MSBY members line up when they arrive at the place. Media immediately catches up with cameras all over them.

“Hey hey heeeeey!” Bokuto yells eagerly to the photographers.

Atsumu is doing his signature fist in the air pose before he serves.

Hinata is smiling ear to ear with his hand on his head, not knowing how to pose for the media. Sakusa, on the other hand, has his hands on his pockets with no expression on his face.

Kuroo might have made a wrong decision in letting Sakusa be the fourth person to attend. He should’ve chosen someone more camera-friendly from their roster. Oh well. What’s done is done. What’s important is he got to sign a deal with the brand to sponsor MSBY.

When he graduated, he immediately got accepted at the Japanese Volleyball Association, Sports Promotion Division. It’s just as he wanted, to make use of his education and still be involved with the sport that he loves.

Part of tonight’s job is going around and greeting the Marketing staff of the brand. He engages in small talk and thanks them for the opportunity. The event is simple, nothing too fancy. It’s a bit dull for his taste, probably because the shoe line is all-encompassing - lifestyle, sports, formal wear. Hence, the lack of a specific theme.

After the obligatory chatters, he goes back to where he left the guys, but finds not one of them there. Damn it.

One thing he likes about his job is he got to reconnect with several people from his high school who are now part of the Japanese pro teams. The drawback is that sometimes he has to handle them, especially at events like this. He knows Bokuto and Hinata all too well, so he knows how to manage the two. However, with Miya and Kiyoomi in the fray, it’s a different ball game. Knowing how chaotic the four can get, he picks up the pace.

‘For Christ’s sake, they better not be fucking around.’ He says in his head while his eyes search for any of the four.

Unknown to Kuroo, Atsumu is strolling around the area with Sakusa after the photographers had their fill of them. He suddenly stops and fixates his gaze on something that catches his interest. “Omi-kun. Imma introduce myself to that chick over there. Couldja not tell Kuroo-san?”

Sakusa looks at the direction Atsumu’s looking at. When he sees the subject of interest, he scowls. He’s already sure that Atsumu’s about to make a move on the girl he just eyed. “Don’t. Technically, we’re at work.”

It falls on deaf ears. Atsumu waves nonchalantly as he walks away from him. He’s gonna get that hot chick’s number and no one’s stopping him.

“Miya-san! We were looking for you.” Hinata suddenly appears. Atsumu doesn’t notice him approaching because his attention is on the girl.

“Yeah, Tsum-tsum. Where did you go?” Atsumu glares at Bokuto. “Don’t call me that in public!” he says angrily in hushed tones. He looks around to see if anyone heard, then lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Oh look. There’s a cute lady!” Hinata says with excitement. Bokuto’s eyes go after where Hinata is looking at. “Woah! Let’s go greet her?” Bokuto asks Hinata enthusiastically. Hinata nods with the same eagerness.

Atsumu grits his teeth. “What the hell?! I saw her first!”

“So? We can all say hi.” Bokuto retorts innocently. Atsumu wants to snap at Bokuto’s lack of ability to take a hint. “Let’s go, Hinata!” Hinata and Bokuto march towards the girl. Atsumu walks briskly to catch up to the two.

“There’s no way you two are going before me” he says while getting a step ahead of them.

Sakusa looks at the three dunces who’s now hogging the poor girl. Even at a distance, he can hear their voices. He already knows that Kuroo will be smacking them if he sees them, including him, despite not being involved in their ruckus. He should pacify them before they do something more embarrassing.

He goes to where they are and grabs Bokuto’s shoulder. “Hey. Cut it out.”

“Oh, btw. This is Omi-kun. You should see him warm up. His wrists are so cool! But freaky.”

Sakusa’s eye twitches. It’s not his intention to be introduced, and the way Bokuto did it is not to his liking.

He looks at the girl who looks like she’s just putting up with them. “You’re bothering her.” He says, reprimanding.

Atsumu feels a firm grip on his shoulders. Must be Sakusa on his grill instead since he couldn’t faze Bokuto. Atsumu’s temper is seething at how he’s persistently getting cockblocked tonight. “Fuck off, Omi-kun.” he hisses under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

Atsumu freezes when he recognizes the voice. He slowly looks at who the voice came from, hoping that he was wrong. Very unfortunately for Atsumu, he was dead on. He stands up straight and looks somewhere else. The other three notices how he suddenly stops talking. When they look at him, they see Kuroo instead, his eyes in crescent slits and a sinister smile creeping on his face. They stop muddling around and stand up straight at the same time, joining Atsumu like a bunch of middle schoolers being discplined.

“Come on now, boys.” Kuroo says with hidden threat on his voice. He’s never putting these four in the same campaign again. He’s the same age as them, but he feels like he’s losing his youth when he’s working with these four oafs. He has to always step it up or else they’re all going to get in trouble. He sighs.

He turns to the girl.

“I’m so sorry about th-”

He blinks a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But he can’t be wrong. He can never mistake you as someone else. Everything about you is etched in his brain.

His eyes roam all over you, letting himself be captivated by you again - your alluring eyes, your soft lips, your breasts that fit just right in his hands, your legs that wrapped around his back when you felt too good.

It really is you in the flesh. You, who suddenly vanished and left him hanging right when he realized that he wanted more than what your friendship offered.

He had no idea what happened. That night when you said you were going to meet him, you did not show up. Not a text or call to let him know why, even the days after. But he let it slide. He thought maybe it was just your usual disappearing act. You did disappear though. For good.

A lot of times, he still thinks about a particular day. He stayed up all night drinking and playing games and when he woke up, he saw one text from you. He’s never been that excited just from one text. At last, you decided to show up again. His excitement quickly turned to panic when he read it.

“…I’m leaving. Wanna meet before my flight?”

A text that was sent hours earlier when he was still out of it. What if he woke up earlier? What if he read your text and met with you? What difference would that have made?

Until now, it’s still on his mind how he frantically pressed his phone keys and called you back as many times as he could, only to get a “cannot be reached” prompt every time. He tried searching for you but he couldn’t. Your social media accounts were all gone. Since he did not know anyone in your life, there was no one to ask. He thought you both had a chance, but in a snap, you were gone from his life.

It stung more than he wanted to admit. He eventually gave up. He wouldn't be able to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. Yet, you’re here, in front of him. Just a few steps and he can hold you.

Seeing you still as beautiful as he remembers, brings a familiar tug in his chest that he’s not sure he likes.

“Kuroo, if you wanted to say hi too, just say so.” Bokuto complains, noticing how he’s ogling at you as well. He notices how the other three are frowning at him as well.

He scoffs. These boys have no fucking clue that what he had in mind was more than meagerly saying hi.

“Yea, yea. My bad.” He puts his hands mid-air and pins a phony smile on his face. He turns to you and puts his hands on his pockets.

“Sorry about them.” You open your mouth to say something but your gaze drifts to the four Jackals who are looking at both of you. Instead, you smile politely and bow. What a fake-ass personality.

He’s at work and there shouldn’t be any monkey business, but he can’t resist the urge. He’s not having this polite facade you’re pulling right now. He hasn’t seen you in months. He needs to see the real you. He moves closer. You falter and take one step back. Too bad for you, his strides are longer. Just one step and you’re already within his grasp. Finally. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your jaw.

“How’re you, kitten?” He says a bit too loud than he wanted.

Your eyes become wide as saucers with crimson specks dusting your cheeks. He takes delight at the sight. You look exactly as you did on that rooftop.

Part 4 | Part 6 | m.list

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #kuroo testuro #kuroo x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo #kuroo x female reader #kuroo angst

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delicatebluebirdruins · 3 years

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Heartland s14 ep 1 take 2

tumblr was supposed to save my previous post to drafts so I could add to it (and did not do it which I did not realise until I looked at my notifications and someone had reblogged it in other words OOPS sorry)

to repeat myself anyone criticising Graham for his decision to leave and the timing of it will be blocked, and I wish Graham himself all the best for his future projects

under a read more because spoilers, a rant with some swearing and lots of rambling so it got long

so first I’m going to go off topic a little bit and rant because this hurt a lot when it happened. Last September I woke up one morning to the news that my favourite character (Bellamy) from the numbers show was shot and killed by my other favourite character (Clarke) for the most stupidest reason ever (she killed Bellamy over a sketchbook which he wanted to give to the bad guys... to protect her daughter... AND THEN SHE JUST BOUNCED AND LEFT THE SKETCHBOOK THAT MIGHT HAVE ENDANGERED HER DAUGHTER ON THE FLOOR NEXT TO THE BAD GUYS THAT WERE STILL LIVING). So i was still dealing with the death of my favourite character and the subsequent dragging through the dirt of both Bellamy he died alone thinking everyone hated him. No one really mourned him, he was all but forgotten except for a few throwaway comments that ‘he was right’. No one felt regret about not believing him. No one spoke up and said they wished he could have been here on the beach at the end. He was erased from the narrative and a minor character who died in S3 and whose story had already been wrapped up overshadowed him (and almost everything else that happened in the already shitty finale*- like seriously all of humanity was forced to join a universal consciousness and you don’t have to know a lot about science fiction to know it is really bad). (and everyone thought he was dead and his gf was ready to go on a killing spree about it for revenge but when they found he was actually dead they all just shrugged it off and said he died the moment he joined the bad guys when they were standing in the presence of another bad guy who was on that side for a lot longer and was only a recent turn coat) and Clarke who was the hero of this show was turned into cause of all of humanities sins and not a hero who tried (and then gets rewarded by being let to stay with her “friends” on a beach unable to bear children because aliens turned up as a master race and killed all of humanity and those that were left were made barren? yes in the last ever episode of a seven season show we got introduced to aliens- honestly putting all I know of season 7 into words like this still makes no sense)

*link to the youtube video The 100 Finale... May We Never Meet Again: Talis the person who made the video went off you know if you are morbidly curious

Bellamy was one of my favourite characters and he was done hella dirty. And Ty was another and he got given multiple love letters in just one episode and probably more to come as season 14 progresses. (I laughed as yesterday a youtuber called Hannah King made a video about the first episode of season 14 and I read the comments one of which saying that Ty was done dirty by the writers and I just??? I was hella tempted to put that rant above this part in a response to that comment good lord)

so onto Ty and Heartland

I watched the entire of season 13 in a day and cried a little when Ty and Amy got shot... and it hurt but was also very cathartic to watch because the worry and care was brought to the forefront like Ty not even realising he was shot and his panic was a very real moment

so when fandom started speculating about Ty’s death my only thought was if he did die he would do it with a complication with the gunshot wound and I was right. But it didn’t hurt as much to think about because I trust the writers even if they have made some missteps in past seasons. However, because of Bell and the faith I had in the writers back then (I trusted the writers until I remembered after the death because main character hater was promoted to head writer) I was also worried because of that.... Heartland is essentially the only ongoing show that I’m still actively watching and not just searching for spoilers.

I rewatched the first episode of season 14 twice (will probably do so again maybe)

Ty’s death was handled well, the blurring of the doctor delivering the news and Amy mentioning that the funeral was a blur (I kind of hope we get a flashback)

So it goes without saying the timing of Graham leaving and Ty dying is hard because of Covid-19 and the loss (all forms like normal routines, lives and you know what i mean I hope) that comes with it.

Because of everything in real life and the real life grief a lot of people have been going through, one of the many parts during the episode that made me tear up and cry a little was Grandpa Jack’s and Amy’s heart to heart in the fishing cabin. It was a very real moment the mentioning of how difficult Grandma Lyndy’s death was for death despite it being expected and how unexpected Ty’s was. And Jack saying “there is no right way to grieve” is possibly the most important part of it as there is no right way, and grief is not linear its not a straight line it will be very hard to deal with for a long while.

“keep me in your heart“ was a very strong start and I can’t wait to see what comes next (I hope at some point we see some old friends and Scott turn up and react to Ty’s death). And I am so glad that the cast and crew are talking about it in videos as a message to fans

in the end Ty was loved completely by the family and he loved them the same. the rest is confetti

#anti jason rothenberg #heartland #long post #my post

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snaccforyou · 3 years

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G/T Secret Santa Exchange

Story for @gilby-the-geek-girl

Challenge from @secret-shifters

The house was warm, bright, and full of laughter. A few people were exchanging presents, and most had a glass of eggnog or cider in their hands. It wasn't a massive party, only a couple dozen attendees, but it was a little crowded for Celine's tastes.

As a friend-of-a-friend attendee, she didn't know most of the cheerful group, and was a little too shy to try and mingle this late into the party. Instead she sat on one of the host's fluffy couches and watched the merriment with a mix of discomfort and amusement.

"Hey!" A rosy face appeared next to her, and she jumped. Someone she vaguely recognized from one of her classes, Anna maybe, was leaning over the couch next to her.

"Selena, was it?"

"Celine, actually," she corrected, a little startled.

"Oops! Sorry!" Possibly-Anna said, breaking into tipsy giggles. She held out a glass full of cider. "Did you want something to drink?"

"Um, no thank you," Celine declined with an awkward laugh. If she were at her own home, she might be tempted, but Celine was a bit of a lightweight. She was a little wary of drinking any sort of alcoholic beverages with so many strangers around, especially with how she was currently feeling. There was a slight itching, a tingling under her skin that meant losing her self-control could end badly.

"Suit yourself, I guess," laughed Anna. She straightened and joined a large group of chatting friends.

Celine felt a familiar wave of claustrophobia, and took a deep breath. Honestly, the party wouldn't be half bad if she didn't feel like she might shift at any moment.

Celine was a sizeshifter, a being that was able to change her size dramatically. While some size-shifters had complete control over their abilities, others were more unpredictable. Celine had moderate control over her shifts, but the longer she went holding back, the more uncomfortable she felt.

Right now, her body felt far too small, the room far too tiny for her. She subtly scratched her arm, and tried not to imagine stepping outside and shooting up to three times her "regular" height. She let herself grow an inch taller and glanced around the room.

Byron, the friend who had invited her and the only other sizeshifter she knew of in this city, had been mingling with some of his friends, but she'd lost sight of him several minutes ago. She wanted to pull him away and ask if there was any way they could leave early. As a sizeshifter with even less control over his size, he'd understand.

Of course, she'd feel terrible making their ride, a really nice person named Wren, leave early, but she would rather leave when the discomfort was bearable.

Last she'd seen Byron, he'd pulled one of his friends aside to talk. She hadn't seen them in several minutes, but when Byron's friend came back alone, her gaze shot to them. Suddenly, a shifting in their hair caught her attention. She blinked, doing a double take.

Sure enough, nestled in his friend's hair sat Byron. They locked eyes as well as they could from across the room, and Byron gave what looked like an apologetic shrug. He waved his now tiny phone, and Celine checked her texts. There was a new message in the carpool group chat from Byron.

Sry, unexpected small problem. Have 2 ride back w/ someone else.

It was subtle enough that Celine would've understood what happened even without seeing him small. She completely understood, but her desire to stay was even less now. She started to look for Wren, not looking forward to telling them she wanted to leave early.

***

Wren wasn't a huge fan of parties. They weren't a very social person, but Byron and his friend had needed a ride, and he was one of their few friends that actually cared about them. Besides, this party wasn't too bad. They'd had a little eggnog, but not enough to feel more than a slight warmth. The other partygoers mostly left them alone, so they didn't have to socialize too much.

About halfway into the party, they got a text from Byron saying his change in plans. At first they let out a sigh. Typical Byron, having some secret emergency that changed his plans. It was fine, though, Wren was used to his strange habits by now, and as long as he had a different ride they weren't too worried about him.

Wren just hoped the ride home wouldn't be too awkward with just them and Celine. They didn't know her very well, but she seemed nice at least. And she hadn't reacted negatively to hearing they were non-binary, which was usually a pretty good sign. They wondered if she'd be willing to leave the party a little early.

As if summoned by their thoughts, Celine was suddenly standing next to them. Wren jumped slightly, and gave a small wave.

"Uh, hi, Celine," they said. She waved back just as awkwardly, and stood silently for a couple of seconds. At least they were both in good, socially awkward company, Wren mused.

"Hi," she finally said with a little laugh. "I was wondering if you saw Byron's text?"

Wren nodded, waving their phone and almost dropping it.

"Yeah I saw it just a minute ago," they said. "Typical Byron."

"Typical Byron," Celine agreed with an awkward but nice laugh. She seemed like she wanted to say something else so Wren waited.

"So, I know it's still pretty early, and I'm sorry if it's inconvenient, but how do you feel about leaving a little early?" She blurted, words running together slightly in her rush to get them out. Wren felt themself sag slightly with relief.

"Honestly, I am so glad you asked," they said, looking up to meet Celine's eyes. "I don't really like parties."

Celine smiled down at them. Something seemed slightly off to Wren, and they frowned. Maybe it was just the eggnog, but…

"Are you taller now?" They asked, squinting. Celine laughed awkwardly, looking off to one side and Wren slammed their hand over their mouth. "Sorry, that's such a weird question. Obviously you're not."

"It's fine, it's fine," Celine said.

"Do you think Byron's still here?" Wren asked. They didn't want to leave without telling him goodbye, but he might've already left.

"Uh, I haven't seen him for a while," Celine answered. Wren scanned the party for a few seconds, seeing no sign of their friend.

"Well, I guess we can always say we're sorry we missed him later," they said, eventually giving up.

Leaving the party was surprisingly easy. Most people didn't even notice they were leaving. The one guy who did wished them a happy holiday and went back to the party.

As they stepped outside, Wren was a little surprised to see snow falling. Celine, who had visibly relaxed once they stepped outside, tension falling off her frame, looked surprised as well.

"I thought it was supposed to be 'unusually warm' tonight," Wren said, quoting the day's weather forecast.

"I guess the weather really is always wrong," Celine responded with a little laugh. Wren unlocked their car, and they both climbed inside. When Wren turned the key, the car made a horrible spluttering and failed to start.

"Um," they said, and tried again. Five minutes, and several curses later, they gave it up as a lost cause.

"I'm really sorry," they said, feeling mortified. "Should we just go back inside?"

Celine hesitated, looking super uncomfortable. Wren wondered if she had trouble with crowds.

"I have a… place pretty close by that I can probably walk to, but I'd feel bad leaving you alone," she said.

"A 'place'?" Wren repeated incredulously.

"Well, Byron lives kinda close to here, and since I go to his place pretty often I have a little area with this super old car parked there for emergencies," Celine rambled.

"I'm not gonna lie, that's really weird," Wren said, still very confused. There wasn't even a guarantee that car would work, and having a 'place' was a little sketchy. They weren't thrilled about walking in the snow, but they were even less thrilled with the idea of letting Celine walk off by herself. That was a disappearance waiting to happen.

"If… if you don't mind taking me along, I could walk with you to your… 'place' and you could drive me home?" they suggested. After a moment, Celine nodded.

"This is such a bad idea," Wren muttered to themself, then they followed Celine into the snow.

***

After about ten minutes of walking, the snow had soaked through Wren's shoes. They really regretted not just going back inside, but at this point Celine's car was probably closer than the party.

At least Celine seemed to know where she was going even if she'd severely underestimated how long it would take to get there.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't think it would take this long," she apologized, looking just as miserable as they felt. She looked more uncomfortable than cold though, shifting from side to side and fidgeting with her warm looking hoodie.

"It's f-fine," Wren muttered, only lying a little bit. They were really regretting not bringing a warmer jacket. "As long as you don't get lost, then we're screwed."

"No, I know exactly where we're going," she said confidently. "I'm good with directions I just have trouble with distance sometimes."

Celine gave them an apologetic look backwards. She stopped as she noticed them shivering.

"Are you ok? Do you want to use my jacket?" She asked, sounding worried. Wren shook their head vehemently.

"No, no, then you'll be cold. I'll be fine for another couple of minutes, let's just get there quickly."

Celine looked worried, but kept walking. Over the next minute she looked more and more fidgety, until finally she stopped. Wren shot her a questioning look, but she wasn't meeting their eyes.

"I have… an idea," she started hesitantly. "It'll be warmer, and we'll get there quicker, but… it'll be kind of shocking. Do… do you trust me?"

Wren stared at the girl who was basically a stranger, leading them to an unknown location in the snow. At this point, they thought it was a little late to be evaluating their life choices, and they told her as much.

"I mean, if you're a serial killer it's a little late for me to suddenly realize how sketchy this situation is," they joked nervously. "But I think, and I really hope, that I can trust you." Celine smiled, but she took a couple of steps back.

"Thank you, I think," she said. "Just… don't freak out, ok?"

Wren nodded, feeling more freaked out by the second. Celine took a deep breath, then stopped fidgeting, completely relaxing for the first time since Wren had met her. They watched in fascination as she looked somehow freer, less stressed, and taller. Then their heart skipped a beat as they realized that she was actually getting taller, it wasn't just their imagination.

They watched with wide eyes as Celine slowly grew, until she was twice their height, then three times, so tall they had to crane their head to look up at her. A massive shadow fell over them as she blocked out the light from the moon and the distant streetlamps. She knelt, but kept growing, getting so tall that they couldn't see all of her at once.

Wren didn't even realize they were backing up until they ran into something large and warm. They jumped and looked back, shocked at the size of the hand behind them. Celine's hand was now big enough to completely cover them. They stood in stunned shock as Celine gently cupped her hand around them, her fingers almost as long as their body. Wren looked back up in awe.

"Celine?" They asked, voice sounding small, even to their ears.

"It's ok," Celine said. She sounded like she was whispering, but Wren could feel the vibrations from the sound. Far above them, Celine smiled.

Fingers moved around them, and Wren's attention was brought to the impossibly big hand at their back. They stared as another hand the size of a mattress appeared at their side.

Wren suddenly knew exactly what a hamster felt like when being picked up, as hands cupped them from both sides, gently maneuvering them to sit in the palm of Celine's hand. Warmth radiated from her hand, and they could feel her heartbeat pulsing beneath them.

They were torn between being nervous and amazed, and they settled for studying the incredible close-up of hands in front of them. They hesitantly reached out to touch Celine's fingertips, their breath catching as they traced the detailed lines.

Wren felt a slight sense of vertigo as they were lifted higher. Celine had lifted them to her face, and the full force of a giant's attention distracted them.

"Are you feeling warmer now?" Celine asked, and Wren felt the vibrations where they sat. It took a couple seconds for them to process the question, and they nodded, still too shocked to speak. Their heart was beating a little too fast, and they realized they'd been silent for far too long.

"C-celine, what… how?" They stammered, unable to tear their gaze away from her. It would be hard to look away if they wanted to, considering she took up most of their vision.

"I'm a sizeshifter," Celine said, a smile that they would've called small if they were the same size on her face. The phrase rang a bell, and they wracked their memory. They remembered their parents using the phrase years ago but they thought that was a fairytale. Apparently not.

Wren stared for another moment before the amazement finally overtook the shock of suddenly feeling so tiny.

"That's so cool!" They blurted, a smile breaking out onto their face.

***

Celine had been nervous about showing her ability. Wren seemed trustworthy, but it wasn't something she just told people. She'd been planning to shift and walk on her own. The discomfort from not letting herself shift had been growing since they left the party.

However, when Wren insisted on coming with her, and refused to take her jacket, she couldn't bear seeing them so cold. Not when the walk was so much longer at human size than she remembered. Not when she had such an easy solution that would help them both.

They seemed nervous at first, but she thought it was more the shock of seeing someone grow taller than a house than actual fear for their safety. And after less than a minute of sitting in her hand, they stopped shivering, so she counted that as a win.

Once Wren got over their initial shock, they were excited, looking up at her with an awed expression that made her feel embarrassed. They seemed a little too flustered to talk much, so she stood as slowly as she could, trying to keep her hands from shaking too much.

Wren seemed ok, waving up at her with a shy smile, and looking out in fascination. She started walking again, making progress much quicker, and they eventually relaxed against her fingers.

Her heart melted, and she felt flattered at the amount of trust she was being shown. Honestly, she thought Wren would be scared off once she mentioned the hideout she had for if she needed to grow. Of course she hadn't called it that, but the wording had been weird enough to scare anyone off.

But Wren had stayed, and even now was trusting her, sitting calmly in her hands and listening as she chatted about something she read recently.

Eventually, even sitting in her hands couldn't keep the chill away, and they started shivering again. They weren't that far from Celine's hideout, but she asked them anyways.

"Would it be ok if I put you in my pocket? It would be a little bit warmer."

Wren nodded, and she carefully shifted them to one hand. They held onto her fingers for balance, seemingly fascinated by watching her hands move up close. She carefully moved them to the opening of her pocket, tilting her hand and letting them slide off into the hoodie pocket. She stuck her hands inside, careful not to squish them. After a moment, she felt them lean against her hands, getting comfortable in the warm pocket.

She walked cautiously for the next minute, careful not to shake them up too much. When she reached the hideout, she sank to a seated position.

"We're here," she said quietly, not wanting to move Wren without warning. There was no response.

"Wren?" She carefully felt around her pocket. Her tiny passenger was curled up against her hands, breathing deeply. She smiled as she realized they fell asleep.

"I guess I'll let them sleep a bit longer," she whispered to herself as she watched the now tiny snowflakes falling and felt the gentle breathing of her tiny friend.

#secret shifters 2020 #giant/tiny fluff #giant tiny #g/t fluff #g/t #giant/tiny

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

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drunk chris continuation?💕

A/N- Heres Part 2! Hangover cure!

Part 1

You disappeared into the kitchen to make the hangover cure, grabbing a bottle of champagne, and orange juice from the fridge, making mimosas to relieve Chris’s headache. You knew he was a beer man, but this was vitamin C boost. Whatever, that what you were claiming was the cure. You also dug into the fridge and dug out stuff to make blueberry pancakes. What was mimosas without fluffy pancakes to go with it. Flipping on your playlist, and plugging your phone into the kitchen outlet, you got started with the tunes of Billy Joel playing in the background.

Chris made his way to the shower, once he got the water running, he figured a couple tablets would help with the throbbing behind his eyes. Opening the medicine cabinet, he shook the bottle and popped the meds, palming his hand under the facet to collect a swallow of water. Dipping his head back to ease them back. Oh that better kick in soon he thought, while his hand dipped into the stream of water and finding it satisfactory, he shed off his clothes, tossing his wallet and phone up on the counter and got in. Giving a sigh at just how good the hot water felt falling down his back and turning into it fully to drench himself and soap up, already feeling better.

Afterwards he dried off and slipped on a loose pair of sweats and nothing else, since today was just a lazy day. Going into the kitchen, he caught you bouncing happily to the soft tone of Joel, sipping on what looked like bubbly orange juice from one of the flute glasses you kept for special occasions. His stomach rumbled, and he was surprised to find that yea, he was hungry. Hands sliding along your bare hips, lifting his shirt up enough for him to palm your ass while you flip two pancakes. “Feeling yourself again?” You tip your head over your shoulder and give him a quick kiss while waiting for them to cook through.

“Much better, I took a couple tablets and they helped. Is there anything I can do to help?” His hands were still on your bare ass cheeks, fondling them, making them clench under his touch. “Nope, one of those flutes are yours, and we will have breakfast out on the deck? Its not to bad out, but your gonna want your sunglasses. I will be out in a minute.” You scooped out the pancakes and onto a plate with the others you already made. Chris gave one last squeeze and a light tap that made you jump in place while he nipped your neck.

“Your an animal” You hiss at him joking while he went to grab stuff from the fridge to accompany the breakfast you made, along with silverware and plates. “Theres no denying that baby, I love everything about you, you expect me to keep my hands entirely to myself when your bare ass in the kitchen?” He wiggled his brows and whistled to Dodger, who happily followed him out onto the deck, setting up the table, he was quick to go back inside and grab his sunglasses, perching them on his face.

“No, thats the whole point. Although we sitting out on the patio, Im gonna need something to cover my bare bottom.” You claim when he returned to you to grab your plate of pancakes, letting his hand wander one last time for a firm squeeze, pecking your lips playfully. “Fine, I can understand that.” He relented and took the plate from your hand. You pat his chest and give him a light push to go back out.

“Your insatiable, go out, I will be there in a minute.” you laugh, and retreat to put on some boy shorts, slipping them on with a hop while you continue down the hallway, collecting your mimosa and the ingredients to continue making more. When you step onto the concrete of the patio, your toes flex underneath the warmth already building in the late morning. Setting it all down on the glass top, you perch in your seat, shading your eyes to see Dodger on the other side of the pool and stretched out in the shade.

Chris is sitting next to you, scrolling through his phone, and obviously reading over the messages you two shared last night, groaning softly and you grin while collecting a couple still warm pancakes, pulling of a bite to pop in your mouth. “What? wishing they took away your phone last night?” you ponder, leaning over to look at what hes reading. “They should have. It wasnt just you that got random ass messages. Mom, Carly, Shanna. “ he continued scrolling, and flipped it so your could see. “Even a joint message to Anthony and Seb.” You collect his phone to read through it and laugh at his rambles, which both men responded with Wtf man, go to bed from Seb, and Anthony, well he egged him on.

You talk to all your friends this way? Your girl gonna get jealous.We knew you loved us man.

“Its your job to take it away before I go out” Chris informed you when you handed it back over and went back to your pancakes, drizzling syrup over them. “Oh no, what if you need to give me a call, ask me to marry you again? Be sure you tell Anthony Im willing to share, im not a jealous girlfriend.” You smirk, and Chris glares over his sunglasses at you, making you lean over and put a playful kiss on his pouting lips. “You love me and you know it Evans.”

“Yea I do, still your job to take away my phone next time.” He finally took a pancake and ripped it in tiny pieces and nibbling on a piece. You were about to retort when you heard someones voice behind you, and half turning in your chair, you saw Scott wandering into the kitchen. Waving your hand to catch his attention. “Were out here, grab a glass and I will make you a my morning hangover cure.”

Scott grabbed a flute glass and came out, immediately dropping his sunglasses on his face with a groan. “Suns a bitch, shining so bright so early in the morning.” He walked past the two of you and dropped a greasy mcdonalds bag in Chris’s lap. “I figured you might want to try that.

“Its 11 am Scott...” You retort as you take another bite of your pancakes. “And I made breakfast.”

Chris is digging out a sausage biscuit and Scott hands over his flute glass, which you start to put one together for him. “And your pancakes are delicious Y/N, but we need hangover breakfeast, greasy fast food will soak up that last bit of alchohol. We are pros at this, been at it since 16. Blame Chris, he corrupted me way back then.” You roll your eyes and smirk when handing it back over, which he sipped off the top.

“You know what Im not surprised. Under that nice sweet man exterior of his, I knew theres a corrupted side.” you smirk at your man, winking.

Hes unwrapping the biscuit, sharing bites of the biscuit with Dodger whos sitting near him with his head in his lap. “If I remember correctly, I wasnt the one who insisted I went out.” He arched a brow, who in turn Scott pointed right at you.

The traitor.

“Excuse me, it was YOUR girlfriend and contacted me saying you need a drunk night out with your friends. I delivered.” Scott informed Chris, and your acting all innocent, whistling and looking around, suddenly the other side of the pool looks really interesting. In your weak attempt to change the subject. “Chris wouldnt some bird feeders look awful nice over there, something for Dodger to watch.”

Taking a bit bite of his biscuit, Chris snorted after he swallowed. “I KNEW IT WAS YOU.” Exaggerating his words, you look over slyly and shake your head in denial. “Oh I dont know what your talking about Chris.” In a semi aggressive whisper across the table, fake covering your mouth to exaggerate it “Scott how could you throw me under the bus?! were no longer best friends.”

Scott laughs and tosses back the last of his drink. “That is until you need someone to come over and hang out cause your bored.”

“Okay, well until then, your dead to me.”

“Deal Sweetheart, okay gonna go check on the others. Since you know, not a one of us left sober except for Mikey. Check on you two love birds later.”

As Scott left, Chris tossed the last bite to Dodger and you pushed away your plate, moving to a stand and coming around to sit on Chris’s lap, brushing your hand through his hand while he circled his arms around your waist and pressed his face in your chest, making your laugh. “Your not to upset I called in your friends, you really did need a night out Handsome.”

“Mmmph mmph mmoh” He mutters and you ease his head up, chuckling. “What?” your brow arches in question.

“Hell no, it was needed, but... “ His arm tightened around your waist and moved to a stand, not letting you go, your arm loped around his neck to balance while he braced his arm under your knees. “It was tricky and you didnt take away my phone.” Chris went around the table and started to the pool. As soon as you realized his intent and started to wriggle to try to get loose. “Dont you dare Chris... Chris! CHRISTOPHER DONT YOU DARE!”

But he did dare, and you went splashing into the pool, you shot back up sputtering when he to jumped in next to you, you swam over to where he would pop up, and shoved him back under. His hand snaked up to your boy shorts, pulling them off, leaving you squealing, and he shot up in front of you. Pushing your hands against his chest to push away from him, trying to escape, he dove after you, leaving you laughing and twisting away, till you came up behind him, yanking his own pants down, blowing water in his face when he turned around.

“Get your ass over here baby.” He growled and you shook your head, pushing the hair from your face and staying just out of his reach as you two circled around the pool till he ended up catching you right at the edge, and your legs wrapped around his waist, nipping at his lips playfully.

“Oops look like you caught me!” You grinned at him and he grinned back, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you back deeply. “My plan all along, wear you out and then I get to do what I want with you.”

Which he did, making you orgasm twice pressed between the pool wall and him, you two finally got out, and went to take a “quick” shower, the water going cold on you two, but at least the chlorine was washed off. Instead of really redressing, you slip on black panties and tank top, going out to pick up the patio table, and he follows you out to help, catching sight of your hips. “Oh shit baby, does that hurt?” He frowned and slid a hand over your hip. Frowning you look down, and chuckle.

His fingers must have gripped you pretty hard in the pool, as they fit exactly where he liked to grasp to get the most leverage in his thrusts. “Chris baby, I didnt even know they were there.” You purr as your arm loped around his neck and you nuzzled his neck. “So dont worry about it, It doesnt hurt at all.”

He looks doubtful, and you feathered kisses against his neck. “Promise, but you can make it up to me.” You grin and go back inside, which he followed you and the two of you worked on putting stuff away. “What is that Babygirl?”

“You can watch your video you sent me together so I can see you squirm and love me one more time in bed?”

He seemed to ponder that, and as you bent over the washing maching, his palm squeezed over your ass, making you arch.

“Deal baby, get that cute ass in bed with your phone.”

After dissecting the video in the most hilarious moments, you were laughing so hard tears were streaming down your face, awwing about how sweet he was, Chris took over and proved his words about how much he loved you in the best way possible, leaving you crying his name over and over. Did Chris end up unwinding? Most definitely. It was probably the best day hes had in a while.

Your plan worked like a charm.

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my-arlington-academia · 4 years

Text

Teasing Tadashi fic 😊💘💝

I swear I was writing this before chapter 9 came out! At first this was supposed to be more angsty until I remembered that I suck at writing angst and that... I don't enjoy writing it as much as reading it from someone else soooo... have fluff!!!💖💕 in the original script Scholar, Ellie, Tyler and Axel had formed an "alliance" to prank Tadashi. But after a while he started feeling like they hated him and that he was getting bullied, I almost made him cry then I was like "nope. nu-huh. I can't write this." Of course there was comfort at the end with them apologizing and Scholar explaining that the reason why she was messing with his so much was because she had a crush on him and had no idea how to deal with it.

Uhh... anyway! To brighten up I made this and I'm much more happier with it! Well you guys know the drill, last time I wrote Scholar as a he so Scholar is a she again in this one. And I realized that I'm switching only between the she/her and he/him pronouns but that's because I'm not confident in using they/them, I'm scared that if there's a group of people in my fic, it'll be confusing because the readers will think "wait, is it the group of people or is it Scholar that the narrator is talking about?" It may be a really stupid reason but this is the type of thing I'm sure I can mess up with because I'm a dummy dum 😖

Also, Layelle's super cute drabble inspired me (*cough* @arlingtonssweetheart *cough*) so this fic will have a lil bit of Japanese too. And it'll be written like this. This fic is about 2000 words long and for some reason I wasn't able to put a "read more" like usual... probably because I'm on mobile. I'm terribly sorry about that! You guys will have to scroll through all of that... 😖

edit: I added the “read more” thingy!

Okay! Enough rambling!! Please Enjoy! ✊😍🤗

--------------------------------------

When she met him, Scholar knew right away just how fun it would be to mess with the student body president. His back was always arched and he spoke in a slightly presumptuous manner. He had a very confident walk, he always knew exactly where he was going and his handshake was very solid. He was overall a really proud and level-headed person... which would make it really satisfying if he were to lose that pride even if it was just for a few seconds.

Scholar's intention wasn't to bully him, of course. At least not in a mean way. But whenever she got the chance to tease him, she took it. At first she wasn't making a conscious effort out of it but gradually, as time went by, her head started filling up and she would always think about Tadashi. It was becoming harder and harder to focus in class with the target of her affection seated right next to her. However, she at least had the decency to wait until the end of the lesson for the teasing, she didn't want him to think that she was being a bother.

"Tadashi, teach me something in Japanese."

Without any warning, Scholar whispered in his ear and as expected, he got a jolt. Tadashi would definitely be the type of person to use ASMR to fall asleep, his sense of hearing is so sharp. With how close her face was he wasn't able to look at her in the eye and answered while still looking ahead.

"What do you want to know?"

Scholar backed away from Tadashi's personal space and smiled warmly. However instead of smiling back, Tadashi got chills down his spine. He knew that this was the smile she always used before teasing him in ridiculous and sappy ways.

"Tell me how to say "you're beautiful" pretty pleaaase?"

He already knew where this was going, yet he answered anyway.

"You're beautiful"

"Aww... thank you"

He knew this was coming. He knew and yet he still blushed and became red like a beet while Scholar looked really proud of herself, as if she had just pulled off the smoothest move even though it was really absurd.

"You're being so silly right now..."

He was trying his hardest to act like he was reading through his notes, but really, he just wanted his blush to disappear as soon as possible. Lately, because of Alistair's words he had become even more self-conscious than before. His friend's remark crawled back into his mind and it wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Dude. You obviously have a crush on her."

You obviously have a crush on her.

You obviously have a crush on her...

You have a crush on her.

As always, he wasn't able to calm down at all or to fool Scholar with his lackluster acting skills. Or more precisely, his nonexistent acting skills. Scholar crossed her arms on the desk and put her chin down on them while still gazing at him. From the corner of his eyes, Tadashi could see her still staring and it made him even more nervous.

"S-Scholar... please, stop staring at me. It's distracting me."

Scholar swiftly poked Tadashi's cheek with her finger and hid her fond smile with her other arm, she almost had her face buried in it.

"And you're the one to say that? I'm always distracted by how cute you are all the time Mister student body president."

"I-I am not cute. And please move your finger away from my cheek."

That was a complete lie. Even though he was really embarrassed about doing stuff like this in public, he loved getting teased by Scholar and most of all, physical contact. Had he not been so stuck-up and shy, he would hug Scholar the next time they would be alone together, but everytime they were he got too prideful. Or rather, he would feel really embarrassed and hurt if Scholar, for some reason, pushed him away or laughed at his open display of affection. Whenever he was with Scholar, all kinds of cheesy thoughts would fill up in his mind. I want to hug her, I want to hold her hand, I want to snuggle with her, I want to...

......

And the bell rang, it was time for the next and last period of the day. Scholar gently pulled on his cheek like he was a little kid and moved her hand away to pack her bag. She had to move to another classroom. Unfortunately, they did not have the last lesson of the day together.

"See you later Dashi! And you better not forget what I asked of you yesterday, okay?"

"I-I haven't forgotten! See you soon..."

That's right. It was February 14th today. It wasn't rare of Scholar to invite him to hang out after school but today was a tad bit different. He knew it was stupid to get his hopes up but he really couldn't focus on anything at all. The text message he received yesterday was stuck in his mind. It was a simple "let's meet up in front of the school entrance when the last bell rings" and thankfully, since he can't stutter through texts, he replied with a really composed "Alright, I'll be there." And yet, words couldn't express how frustarted he was the whole day. He didn't follow anything at all in class, he just took notes of random things that sounded important in between his monologues. It was like he was daydreaming 8 hours in a row.

By the end of it he didn't care anymore. He'll just ask Alistair for his notes or something, he'll figure it out. When the last bell rang, Tadashi was the first one to leave the classroom. His classmates of the business, commerce and politics department looked at him in shock. They were already whispering behind his back as he was leaving in a hurry.

"...Maybe he really wanted to go to the bathroom?"

"That must be it!"

But no. He did have butterflies in his stomach but it was not because he wanted to go to the bathroom. He rushed to the school entrance. Now that he thinks about it, this is a weird meeting spot. Usually Scholar would ask him to meet up in the garden or in the cafeteria lounge. Honestly, this was a really awkward place. In a couple of seconds, hundreds of students would rush out to go to their rooms in the dorms and drop their school bags on the ground like dumbbells. Is she going to tease him in front of all the students of this school? God please no. While Tadashi was lost in his thoughts, Scholar came out of... the garden. With a bouquet of red roses.

"You're awfully early Tadashi, did you run to get here? You do know that it's against the school rules to run in the hallways, right? You're not being a really good role model Prez."

But Tadashi didn't listen anymore. All he saw was the huge roses and Scholar holding them with a small blush on her cheeks. Was she seriously about to confess to him in this open space? How did she even have enough time to go fetch the roses? The bell just rang about 30 seconds ago! Could it be possible that she begged Dr.Lee to let her go 5 minutes earlier than usual? ...Well, no matter how she pulled that off, Tadashi was achieving new shades of reds right now. On his face of course.

"I-I apologize if I have the wrong idea but... those roses, are they for me?"

A few students started getting out of the building, and they couldn't just pass next to the scene that was unfolding before their eyes. One by one, they would slowly make a circle around them. Scholar extended her arms towards Tadashi, holding the bouquet with both hands.

"For who else would it be?"

Before Tadashi could even mutter a "thank you" and take the flowers, in a really unnatural manner, Scholar let go of it and the roses fell to the ground.

"Oops! I'm soooo sorry!"

But Tadashi was too submerged in emotion to even notice the bad acting, and so, just as planned, he got down on one knee and took the bouquet. At this point, more and more students were coming out of the school building and like all the others, they were making a circle around them. The small gathering of students soon became a herd, and all eyes were on Tadashi, kneeling down with a bouquet of roses. To make this moment last a bit longer, Scholar stepped on his left foot.

"Umm... Scholar, I have to get up. Move your foot away."

Poor little Tadashi still hadn't caught on what was happening and he looked up towards Scholar, only to see that warm smile again. The one she used when she was teasing him, and he once again got shivers down his spine. After that he looked around. And immediately regretted it. Practically half of the school was gathered around them, watching the scene in awe. That's when Tadashi finally understood what had happened. No matter how you look at it, it seemed like Tadashi was the one confessing his feelings to Scholar, even though it was supposed to be the other way around. One knee on the ground, bouquet of red roses in hand, looking up at Scholar and most of all looking mortified. Not to mention it was February 14th so of course it couldn't be taken in any other way. Tadashi was done for. Only the first few students knew that Scholar was originally the one holding the bouquet, the majority who came later had the wrong idea. And it was all according to Scholar's plan.

Tadashi cursed under his breath.

"Dammit. She got me again..."

As for the lively students, the loud whispers couldn't be stopped.

"Oh my God. I knew it, it was so obvious that Tadashi had a crush on this scholarship student."

"I see them hanging out together in the garden and in the cafeteria lounge almost everyday, do they think they're being discreet?"

"Fuck, where's my phone? I gotta film this..."

"I never thought Mister Prez was the type to pull off that kind of thing, he has balls, that's for sure."

"Duuuuude. What a show-off! I bet he's pressuring her into accepting his feelings, that's why he did it here."

"Not a surprise. The crowd will put more pressure on her and it'll be hard to refuse, Tadashi that witty bastard! Using all of his assets in this way is so not fair!"

Tadashi was mentally begging for Scholar to let him run away from here. When they got surrounded by enough people to her liking, she took the bouquet out of his hands and removed her foot which allowed him to stand up again. Of course, the crowd cheered and whistled thinking that she had just accepted the confession while it was not it at all. Scholar grabbed Tadashi's hand and ran with him to the garden by pushing through the herd of students. Someone screamed "DON'T DO ANYTHING RAUNCHY IN THE GARDEN! USE PROTECTION KIDS!"

That voice... goddammit. It was definitely Raquel. Great. Tadashi looked like he was in physical pain from thinking about what kind of reactions his friends would have after this.

Once they reached their usual spot in the garden, Scholar gave back the flowers to Tadashi. He was panting and still red as a beet. Thankfully, the crowd had the decency to not follow them but they still ran just in case.

"Agh... Scholar... I... cannot believe what you just pulled on me. I got bamboozled so hard, I'm mad at myself for letting my guard down. And here I thought that you wouldn't tease me at least in a serious moment like this."

"Haha... All according to keikaku."

"Oh my God... I can't fucking believe you would do this to me."

"I can."

Tadashi looked so drained, like 5 years just got sucked out of him in a few seconds. That embarrassement, he would remember it until the day he dies. Now everybody thinks that he has a huge crush on Scholar and that they're dating... Not that they're wrong but still!

"We... wait. Scholar, does it mean that we're dating now?"

Suddenly, Scholar looked a little bit vulnerable, she was planning this for a while now so she was mentally prepared but it was still nerve-wrecking in a way. Tadashi wasn't the most self-aware person out there. Or to be more accurate: he was dense at a unimaginable level.

"You... don't want to? You don't like me?"

"What?! N-no! Of course I like you! More than like I..."

He really wanted to say it. He really did, but using the word "love" right away, would that freak her out? He didn't want to make any missteps nor scare her away the really first day of them dating.

"N-nevermind that! Does it mean that all this time when you were teasing me, that was actually fliritng?"

There it is. The dense Tadashi. Scholar mentally facepalmed herself so hard.

"I've been trying to flirt with you for the past 5 months but thanks for noticing I guess."

Tadashi was reminded of all of the times Scholar would tirelessly pick on him, mess with him, make fun of him and borderline bully him. Had he not known the type of brilliant and kind person she really was, he could've easily mistook all of it as her messing around with him to be annoying. Thankfully, even though he was as dense as a brick, he was at least able to understand and make that distinction: she was obviously not trying to be a jerk.

"Oh... Oh... I see. But you could've been more direct! How was I supposed to understand that this was f-flirting??"

"Dashi. Sweetie. The only way for me to be more direct than that would've been yelling at the top of my lungs that I love you... You didn't like the teasing-flirting?"

Tadashi shook his head almost violently.

"N-NO! Absolutely not, I like it... I think... no uh. I definitely like it! Actually if we could, um..."

He opened his arms and looked down in shame with an obvious blush on his face.

"C-can I have a hug... please? It would make me happy..."

This was the most adorable thing Tadashi had ever done. Scholar immediately jumped in his arms, the poor boy had already been teased a whole lot today. While Scholar buried her face in his chest, Tadashi was holding her as tightly as he could. After a couple of seconds, they let go of eachother and tried to look as unfazed as they could even though there was no use hiding their feelings anymore. Scholar was the one to end the silence.

"Well... Now that we're dating, you know what we have to do, right?"

Tadashi was slightly fidgeting with the bouquet still in his hand.

"Um... We hold hands and we go back to the dorms to spend some quality time in your room?"

"Yes! And then we fuck"

The romantic atmosphere was thrown out of the window. This was obviously a joke to lighten up the mood but Tadashi did not appreciate that.

"Who taught you that?? And more importantly, stop learning Japanese just to tease me!!"

Nonetheless, they made their way back to the dorms under the curious gazes of the students while holding hands, like promised. The news already got around the school: Scholar and Tadashi are dating.

--------------------------------------

Aaaayy! It's done! *Clap👏 clap👏 clap👏* This was really fun for me since, well... I love teasing Tadashi 😂 (but who doesn't?) This is the ultimate proof that I like this blushy boi. Hope you didn't cringe! Because I'm sure I will when I read it again in a few days... On a side note, sorry if the February 14th thing was too sudden or out of nowhere, but to be fair the SE team gave us a Halloween chapter in May sooo... whatever! It was Halloween 2 days ago and now it's Valentines day! Deal with it! Also, the biggest plot hole of this fic is that Karolina didn't do shit to stop Scholar and Tadashi from their Miracle Romance🌟🌙 (Sailor moon ref 👌) but I wanted this to be a simple fic without any drama.

Aaaand that's all I had to say! Thank you for reading!!! 💖💗

#sweet elite #se #tadashi nakano #fanfiction #fanfic

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mooswords · 3 years

Note

OKAY MOO, I’M CURRENTLY READING UR FIC “Home” AND I’M— THE END OF THE FIRST PART WAS SO BEAUTIFUL. “he always comes home” -> IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CONTRAST TO THE BEGINNING!!! he gets lost in his OWN fields, and that’s saying something. however, despite that, the reader still being reassured (or as much as she can reassure herself) that he always comes home = he has the red string to BRING HIMSELF BACK TO THE READER = ALWAYS COMING HOME. I’M!!!! and i love the silly banter that opened the story. aLso HIS HESISTATION OVER TELLING THE READER THE JOB HE WAS ASSIGNED... BECAUSE HE WAS WORRIED ABT THE READER.... AKDKSKKSKS. the fact he didn’t accept the offer immediately DESPITE being so in love with the sea and waited for reader’s permission is such a SMALL thing, but when you describe his love for the sea as superior, that action shows he loves the reader even more and i just- SLKDKAKDKSK. i might be over-reading and i apologise if i do bUT DO COMMENT ON IT THANK U!! 🤩💜 - ava

u sent me these eons ago and i promise i wasnt ignoring you ive just been working like 10 hour days and i am Exhausted 😭😭 but all of these messages legitamately give me life, i am so incredibly grateful! <3 im so so glad you enjoyed this fic!! and you are NOT OVERREADING I LOVE TO SEE YOUR INSIGHTS!!!! it makes me fall back in love with the fic all over again! <3

i am SO glad that him always coming home comes through! because it gets kinda dire in the middle of the fic so i wanted there to be that hope at the back of your mind that knew he always came home. but i wanted you to be stressed about it still so :) and silly banter is my favourite part of writing this guy, i had so much fun with it alskdf.

and ok i love u, you got everything i was trying to do there <33 like i was struggling to find the balance between her reluctance and supportiveness. thats a fun (and tricky) thing about established relationship fics i find... theres that depth of understanding that can make the interactions more interesting, but so much of it is unspoken. it was a good challenge! so its so GOOD to hear that it vibes right hehe

THE WAY KUROO PLAYS WITH THE STRING!!! THAT WAS SUCH A FOND MOMENT OMG AKDKSKDK. and it’s so interesting that it appeared before kuroo even left 👀👀👀

she already missed him 🥺🥺 i originally had him tug on her hair and then i went!!! wait!!!! we can do better than that!!!!!!!!

READER IS LOST WITHOUT KUROOO!!!! AKDKSKSK and i also love the little addition where despite it being a POUT, she holds it close to her heart. with the context of their banters + that little scene, it just shows me how much each appreciate every ounce of the other party which makes me SO SO SO SOFT AKDJSKDKSK. and then hitting me with the scene where reader is eating a meal alone??? a punch in the gut. when she realised she’s alone I TOO remembered that kuroo is gone and that softness established in the previous scene is sUCKED OUT—ASKDKSKSKSK.

im just a little obsessed with the little things and gestures that make u fall in love with someone? like the specific way my friend twirls her pen while were in lectures, or how my dad has that one little smile when hes amused himself with his own joke... and for that to be a last lifeline for her to hold on to before he leaves :’))) I JUST LOVE EST RELATIONSHIP FICS OK?!

hehehe yes im sorry about that puch to the gut oops 😇 that was a scene i had super clear in my head before i started - the bright, bright string against the relative drab of the table and room.

i’m at the part where reader gets lost and let me tell u, the fact they have a WAY to communicate via string pulling alone is SO ENDEARING and just subtly hints they have been at this whole red string thing for AGES (or at least enough to form such an understanding). that’s ADORABLE and really strengthens the bonds they have together

yessssssssssss as soon as i thought of this idea i knew it had to be an established relationship. i have it in my brain they have been married maybe 2-3 years?? i am such a sucker for unspoken understanding relationships :’)

“You push hurriedly through the crowd, ducking between market stalls and wagons. There’s no string to follow, but you don’t need it to find him today.” THIS SENTENCE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL in the context of the entire story. and what a perfect way to describe/show the reader that it’s THE DAY. MOO, you’re really serving such great kuroo x reader stories please continue AHHAHA

this entire fic was so self indulgent please dshlfkljadsb but im glad u like this line!! i tend to try visualise the scene like a movie first? and then write it, and this was also one of the first scenes that was super clear in my brain :D

402 DAYS!!!! I SEE WHAT U DID THERE 👀👀 also, is this is a little hint to how u had to wait until the end to see timeskip kuroo? HAHAHA that wld be adorable

WAIT YO THATS CLEVER? I DIDT EVEN- ava when i say that is a COMPLETE coincidence... i literally just picked a number that was longer than 365 days... breaking news i am a secret genius JKBDSCN

i also really liked the “in-between”: of reader’s life without kuroo. u can really see how integrated they are to each other’s lifestyle, and not only that, the scene where reader handles a twin’s birth (to me) strengthens how they’re reallllly soulmates. there is a low chance that kuroo knew reader was in a desperate situation, yet he pulled on the string at the time reader needed it. it’s just—telapathy but not really + soulmate system = SOULMATES. do i make sense? and i really love the details, like how we can trace back kuroo’s scar to a moment of reader’s life in the fic. putting it at the end sort of makes me reflect on their situations that happened simultaneously yet not really. it sort of fills me in with this,,, space. that the earth is so wide. i understand deeper what reader means by “oh he’s going to be gone for so long”. it’s just. wow. the earth is so big yk.

YES YOU MAKE TOTAL SENSE!!! it's such a lovey way of looking at it :') can they communicate and understand eachother like this cuz theyre soulmates? or just because they love each other and have learnt the other inside out?? hhnn this is why i love soulmate aus, theres so much to pull apart!!!

and ok yes on the topic of how big the earth is... im so glad u mentioned this, its my favourite part because (not to get like... super sappy or anything) i was writing this through the toughest stages of our second lockdown. our restrictions got to the point we werent allowed further than 5km from out homes, so writing about freedom and big spaces and exploration of far off places was such a nice escape for me :’) this fic has ended up very close to my heart. (plus i was reading @/w-yuren’s hq0819 series at the time so i had travel and adventure on the brain hehe)

THE ENDING.... THE ENDING.... THE WAY KUROO ASKED READER TO KI** HIM—IT’S LIKE THE KUROO IN MY HEAD YESSSSS. Gosh, this line too “when he kisses you he tastes like the sea; like salt-spray and dry rations and freedom.” may i have a director’s cut abt it :3 AND AKDJSKSK. i really love how the string appeared even tho they were together (the scene before kuroo docked on the ship) and once again, they are together, but none of them are lost because they r together-together. do i make sense? am i overreading things??? again, i have to comment on the banter. it’s simply amazing. kuroo’s replies are so,, KUROO, and they are filled with such FONDNESS I’M SO AKDKSKSK.

IM SO GLAD HE VIBES THANK U I THINK THE FONDNESS IS MY BIAS SHOWING BUT SHHHHH ;P you have picked one of my favourite lines out heheh it was one that just flowed out and wasnt one i particularly had to think about which is always nice. but i think it is a combo of me trying to be fancy lol and me being a huge fan of fantasy-books-set-on-ships. think like explorers or pirates, some rag tag bunch who have to set off on some quest and come back with some of that wildness imbued in their very being... yeah this line was definitely born from me Yearning i think :P

ooo do you mean the wedding scene? that was me trying to hit the ‘feeling lost in a crowd’ idea. you know when youre surrounded by people and joy and laughter and you just feel very small and disconnected? that.

ALSO READER’S DYANAMICS WITH KARASUNO CHARACTERS IS ADORABLE AKDKSKSKK. the festival scene was such a breather and it was adorable to see her interact with those characters. it feels like a snapshot in her life i simply adore that :3

ahh yea! i wanted her to have a life, you know? shes not the type to mope around, like life goes on. that doesnt mean she doesnt miss him oof but theres a whole community around to support her too!! and im very fond of takeda in this scene :’) he takes care of his crows <3

I RAMBLED SO BAD BUT THANK U AGAIN LOVELY I CANT EXPLAIN HOW AMAZING THESE ARE TO RECIEVE <3

#ava <3 #i know u are offline rn but i hope everythings going well with u!#i cant believe ur out here validating all my anxieties oof <333

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grimalkinmessor · 5 years

Text

Refract

(Okay, so, a friend of mine pointed out--after I pestered her for days--that she can't read things on Ao3. So I'm reposting this here so she has no excuse to deny me feedback anymore 😜 Love you, Hev!!!)

Starker - Superior Iron Man/The Spider

It was an oversight on his part.

A grevious oversight.

An oversight that was costing him time, money, and popularity. Unacceptable. Time was annoying, money was dispensable, but someone had publicly defaced his name. On his own damn building.

Unacceptable.

Tony stared up at Stark Tower with a scowl that could melt titanium. Several jittery, frightened PR agents and employees fluttered around him, not daring to get too close. At least they weren't that stupid.

"Who did this," Tony seethed. No one answered him for a beat, and his fury skyrocketed. "Who did this? I want a fucking name!" He roared as he whirled on the fidgety interns, who scattered like bowling pins in the face of his rage.

"W-We don't know, sir," A random employee in a lab coat stuttered. "The c-cameras were s-sc-scrambled, sir; they didn't catch the perpetrator. But the criminal did leave behind this." She shakily extended a black slip of cardstock, and Tony snatched it from her.

He flipped the flimsy strip of paper over to reveal a bright red spider printed in the center of the black. His lip curled up into a sneer. "A spider? Is this supposed to be a calling card?"

The woman swallowed. "With all due respect, sir," She pointed a trembling finger up at the message splattered across the stainless steel and glass of Stark Tower in drying blood, a body staked beneath it. Tony unwittingly followed her gaze. "I think that's enough of a calling card."

He's Gone

STARK

Ravin' Mad!

Tony snarled, "I'll find this bastard. And when I do, they're going to wish they'd never been born."

•🕸️•

Rumors of a mercenary called the Spider littered the darknet like candy wrappers. Attestments to his prowess, curses to his name, shaky accounts of his insanity. It was enough for Tony to put together a profile, but not enough to get an actual name.

The Spider had popped up in the merc community about six months ago, by the looks of it, and began to carve his name into the world with numerous bodies in various stages of dismemberment. Statements said that he hung around a regular haunt for mercenaries all the way in New York, but no one had ever seen his face, nor heard of a name beyond the one used as a title.

"What the hell was a merc from New York doing in San Francisco? Besides fucking up my building," Tony growled as he ripped ruthlessly through firewalls and code locks in search of more to go on.

When further digging yielded nothing, Tony nearly flipped the table over in a fit of anger. Instead, he dug his fingers deep into the lacquer his desk and drew in a deep breath. Tapping the bracelet on his wrist, Tony stood and rolled his shoulders. "JARVIS, clear my schedule for the next week. I'm going to New York."

"Shall I reschedule your meetings for next week, sir?"

"No. I wasn't going to go to them anyway. Send Pepper and her complaints to voicemail," Tony drawled as the symbiotic metal slunk up over his chest and secured itself into something solid.

"Of course, sir."

Then Tony was off to stomp on a pest.

•🕸️•

Tony Stark walking into Sister Margaret's was like a lion strolling into a herd of sheep. The entire bar immediately went silent, tension and fear thick and cloying on the back of his tongue. Tony strode across the room with easy confidence until he reached the bar itself. The crowd of unwashed murderers parted for him like the Red Sea for Moses.

Shaggy, dirty blond hair hung over thick coke bottle glasses to tangle in an even dirtier goatee. Bloodshot eyes of an unidentifiable color glanced lazily up at him. An almost imperceptible flash of tension twitched through the bartender's body, before it slumped back into a nonchalant slouch. "Can I help you, Wall Street?"

"Weasel, is it?" Tony drawled, the picture of relaxation. "I'm looking for a friend of yours."

"Friendship is for toddlers and Bronys," Weasel sneered. "Whoever you're looking for, they aren't here. Now run along back to your supermodel orgies and Extremis campaigns. Unless you have a fetish that makes you make want to rub elbows with us peasants, that is."

"Oh, but I would just love to get up close and personal with a certain arachnid of yours. Because he's already rubbed me all kinds of the wrong fucking way." Tony lashed out a hand caught Weasel by the collar of his hoodie. Almost every patron in the bar pulled a gun on him, and a few even shot. Tony glanced back dispassionately with half-lidded eyes as the bullets ricocheted off his force field and sought their way back into their owners' skulls. Six people dropped to the floor of the bar, dead. Tony sniffed and turned back to Weasel, whose calm facade had abruptly abandoned him. "You have three days to get the Spider to come to me in San Francisco, or I burn you and your establishment to the ground, understand?" He said darkly.

Weasel had gone pale, faintly green, and he looked half a second away from puking as he nodded rapidly. Tony released him and wiped his hand off of his pants with a grimace.

"Good. Three days, and then I come after you with war on my heels. Don't disappoint me."

Tony left the bar behind him and straightened out his three-piece suit with a huff. He flicked his wrist and the surveillance device he'd implanted in Weasel's phone flared to life. Sure enough, not five minutes after he'd walked out of the bar, the Bluetooth in his ear flared to life.

"Wes! What's the occasion? You calling to congratulate me? I've gotten several thank you notes in the mail these past few days—I'm famous!" A voice considerably younger than Tony expected chirped.

"You are an absolute fucking idiot that's going to get me killed," Weasel snarled back. "Do you know who just walked into my bar?"

"Kesha!"

"Tony Stark, you fucking crazy bitch," Weasel hissed. "Your little stunt on your last mark brought Zeus himself down on my ass. Now you have to get your ass down here and fix it before I strangle you."

The voice's jovial tone dipped into something black and sharp. "Careful, Jackie. You wouldn't want two demons on your ass, now would you?"

A falter, then Weasel seemed to shake it off and said, "Just get down here before I throw away all of your Gushers."

"Not my fruit snacks! You monster!"

Tony's nose scrunched up in reproach. This was the man who'd defaced his building? Well, from the sound of it, the 'man' was a boy who wasn't really all there. Not that the knowledge softened Tony's ire in the slightest.

His bracelet pinged with a location. Tony grinned, shark-like, and let his armor slough over him once more. From there, it wasn't hard to launch up and over the few streets to where the signal was originating from. Sure enough, a brief scan of the alley displayed a man with all his organs neatly arranged outside his body on the dirty concrete. A small figure was crawling along the wall of one of the buildings, away from the scene. It was a full body suit made of black spandex, which left little to the imagination. The same blood red spider symbol that had been printed on the card marred both the back and the chest of the suit. The Spider.

Bingo.

Tony dove down towards the alley and fired off a repulsor blast just in front of the figure. Recoiling back from the blast, two slim lenses of red snapped over to glare at him. Tony slid to a smooth stop just before the Spider and hummed as the merc tipped his head at him. "Hi there, Muffet. I don't think we've formally met."

The lenses flickered at him as the Spider leaned back to lounge easily on the wall. "Nope, can't say we have. But what is formality, really? It's an outrageous concept when you think about it. After all," Here, the Spider leaned forward and his mask stretched like he was smiling beneath it. "If formal was wearing a codfish on your head, would you wear it?"

The casual reference to Alice in Wonderland reignited Tony's fury at the message left on his tower. It was obviously meant as a dig. He raised his hand to fire off another repulsor blast right at the Spider's face, but instead of looking scared, the brat just draped an arm dramatically over his face like a fainting maiden.

"Oh my, mister, please don't shoot me," He bemoaned in a theatrical southern bell impression. He fanned his mask with his other hand, only held up by his feet as he swooned. "I don't think I could take you teasing me so."

Before Tony could disperse the cloud of confusion the Spider's rambling had incited, the brat flipped off the wall and onto Tony's shoulders. One hand keeping his balance, the other reached between the shoulder slats and wrenched out a handful of wires. The suit guttered.

"Oops! Hope you didn't need those," the Spider sang as he backflipped off Tony and onto the nearest roof. The suit quickly made up for the lost tech, but it was enough of a stall for the Spider to vanish, "It hasn't been a pleasure, Stark! Buh-bye!" Called over his shoulder.

•🕸️•

Tony was infuriated.

He was known as the unbeatable, the untouchable, the one not to be outwitted. He was Tony fucking Stark.

And yet in his first altercation with what had to be a middle level threat, he hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, much less actually make a move. It tore at his pride until he became obsessed, tearing through archives and sending scans through voice recognition for something—something that would give him leverage.

Which he shouldn't have even fucking needed in the first place.

But no, there was nothing. Nothing but the memory of a glittery voice laughing in his ear, the stretch of black spandex over distinctive muscle that made Tony take more bedpartners than normal, growling angry obscenities into the sheets as he took everything out on his conquests—both his rage, and his lust. It left them bruised and limping away from him after, a spooked look in their eyes. It just made Tony angrier.

Three days ticked by with nothing. Then, just when Tony was fully ready to go blast Sister Margaret's into next week, about to take off towards New York, an encrypted email pinged into his inbox. It was an address.

'Do not tell him I gave this to you. If you can't kill him, then I don't want him coming after me. Frankly, I'm more scared of him than I am of you. I just don't want you nuking my bar.

—W'

Tony bared his teeth in a savage grin, triumph blooming hot in his chest. The slight niggle of indignance in the back of his mind—the brat was hardly more intimidating than him—went ignored. Address loaded into his suit, he shot off towards Queens.

•🕸️•

The side of the building exploded beneath the force of the blast Tony directed at it. He flew forward and could have laughed in delight when the sound of a familiar voice cursing reached his ears. The dust began to clear as Tony ventured confidently into the rubble. A rough bout of coughing drew Tony's eye towards the far wall, which had collapsed on top of a waifish figure that was struggling to pull themselves up.

Wild brown eyes snapped up to glare at him, plush lips twisted into a snarl that bared actual fangs. "You bastard," That same shimmering voice rasped, scraped raw with pain. "You destroyed my lab!"

"You hung a dead guy from my tower," Tony replied as he made his way forward, head tipped to the side curiously.

"Oh don't tell me you're mad that I killed one of your chairmen." Doe eyes rolled as the kid shook out the dust from his curls. He had freckles. Tony drew his tongue across his bottom lip, intent. "I doubt you have actual emotions as it is. You didn't even know he worked for you, I bet," He said daringly as he twisted to try and push the wall off of him.

"You smeared viscera all over my name. Literally," Tony growled as he stalked even closer.

"If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't actually about you," the Spider drawled as he began to heft the wall up with the barest of strains. A mutant.

It decidedly did not.

Tony raised an arm and fired off a slip of liquid metal. It landed on the piece of wall the Spider was levering and quickly forced it back down. He wheezed as the full force of Stark tech crushed back into his chest. Tony stopped to look over the pinned bug, brow raised. He leaned down to better take in the amber shine of narrowed eyes, the sprinkle of freckles across a button nose, the endearing tangle of coffee curls draped over dark spider-leg lashes. He took in the sharpness of those bared fangs, then admired the petal pink softness of those lips. Tony wondered if he defanged the little pest, if they would grow back. More relevantly, how quickly would they grow back, and if he could fit his cock between those lips in the recovery time.

He leaned down even further. "Did you really think that you could get away with defaming me?"

A wide, broken glass grin cut up at him. "What're you gonna do, big man? You gonna toss me off a building? Threaten my loved ones? I don't have any!"

Just then, JARVIS chimed in his ear, "Facial recognition scan complete, sir. The Spider's true identity is one Peter Benjamin Parker."

"Peter Parker, huh?" Tony mused with a grin. The feral amusement slid off the Spider's face, and he went pale. "Let's call your bluff, Spidey. Any extended family, J?"

"All deceased, sir. But records display what appears to be a close friend of Parker's: Harry Osborn."

Tony smirked, "Is that so?"

He expected Parker to blanch further, maybe even make a bid for his friend's life, but to his surprise, Parker just tossed his head back and laughed, long and loud and unhinged. He gasped for air in between cackles, and Tony flicked his fingers in annoyance. The metal pressed the wall down harder, and Parker wheezed out a last delirious giggle. "You think I give a single shit about that piece of literal fucking human garbage? You're grasping at straws, Red Queen!"

Tony wasn't deterred. "I'd say something witty involving 'off with your head', but I've come to the realization that I don't actually want you dead," He mused as he propped his boot on the wall as well, just because he was feeling vindictive.

Parker raised an eyebrow, both wary and intrigued. It probably wasn't very often that people declared that they didn't want to kill him. He searched Tony's face with eyes that had lost their earlier giddy sheen. In their place were two hard shards of topaz, much more intelligent than the madness he'd observed before. "Then how do you want me, Executioner?"

"At my feet," Tony hissed as he fired a second slip of metal right at the kid's face. It was a sedative, one that worked instantly and wore off only when the tech was removed.

Parker was out like a light.

•🕸️•

However tempted he was to tie Parker to his bed, Tony wasn't an idiot. The casual strength the brat had displayed would hardly be the only mutation Parker had up his sleeve, and Tony didn't want his house trashed. So he tossed Parker into the cell he'd created to house the Hulk, then left to give himself a congratulatory glass of Scotch, leaving JARVIS with orders to notify him when Parker woke.

Tony poured himself three fingers of Scotch, feeling like he'd caught a wild panther. He had wrangled a wild animal into a cage, a collar ready to be fastened around its neck, but the challenge of taming the beast looming overhead left a tingle of thrill in his chest.

He wanted to break Parker, to weigh down his limbs until he could lift nothing heavier than a butterfly, to cut up his sharp tongue beyond repair, to pry out his fangs and carve away the stores of venom likely resting in his jaw until he was nothing more than a pretty bauble for Tony to admire.

(There was a small part of him—very, very small—that lamented that Peter would become disgustingly boring should he lose those things. That suggested that he cap the fangs instead of removing them, just to let Peter try to bite him, try to end him, and watch that sweet face blossom in rage when nothing came of it. Wanted to hear him curse and watch metal twist beneath those delicately small hands as he railed against Tony, oh so powerful and yet oh so his. Fashion a sign that read 'Beware of Spider' because a pet he wanted but a beast he'd gained. See those amber eyes burn up at him because that helpless rage was a thing of beauty. The part of him that acknowledged that part of Peter's appeal was that he was a beast, a monster, and Tony wanted to make him kneel.)

(Not that he would ever admit it.)

"Sir, Mr. Parker is awake." JARVIS intoned, a bit ruffled if Tony was reading that tone correctly.

"Awake and lively, I assume." Tony tossed back the rest of his drink and wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers as he made his way back down to the cell.

JARVIS didn't answer, but he didn't need to. Tony came in sight of the cell just as he heard a loud bang echo down the hall. Peter had apparently thrown himself at the wall. They held up, of course. The brat may have super strength but he was no Hulk.

He stilled when Tony came closer, poised to leap again at the walls, fangs bared. Though the window into the room was mirrored, Peter's head snapped to the side and focused with startling accuracy on Tony. Slowly, he straightened out of his crouch and turned towards the mirror. His head tipped, puppy-like.

"Do you think you can hold me?" Came the soft inquiry with an innocent blink of those doe eyes.

"Yes, actually." Tony didn't bother with the microphone. The kid's senses were enhanced—he could probably pick out Tony's heartbeat through the four foot reinforced concrete. "I'm doing it right now."

"You're letting your technology do the holding for you," Peter spat back. "Because you know you aren't man enough to grapple with me face to face."

Tony's lips twitched. "Does goading usually get you what you want?"

Instead of getting angry, or denying the blatant manipulation tactic, Peter smirked at him, amused. "Yes, actually. Wes can't stand it."

The gleeful note to his voice made something in Tony's chest flicker. He drew his tongue along his bottom lip in thought, wondering. "So what are you, Peter Parker?"

He, of course, meant the mutations. He had never seen a mutant that could do what the Spider could do. He could stick to walls, he could spin actual webs, he could lift things easily ten times his own weight, not to mention his bite was most likely lethal. Almost all mutations manifested in a latent gene of some sort, one that had to be put under stress to become active. The gene was not all-encompassing. It gave one gift, and no matter how powerful, it was still only one. Peter had at least five.

But Peter didn't take it that way. He beamed at Tony through the glass and began to him to himself, swaying in place to a silent rhythm. "I am what happens when an angel falls from the sky. I am what happens when goodness realizes that good and evil do not truly exist. I am that one that dared to ask why a God sits on his throne, and lead a third of his children down into the chasm with me." He drew his arms sensually up his sides, cupped his throat, and ended with his hands tangled in his messy curls. He grinned at Tony, eyes half-lidded, taunting. "Do you think yourself a God, Stark?"

The conversation he'd had with Murdock rang in his ears like the high of a church bell. A damning, indisputable truth.

"No use thinking when I know," Tony drawled, heart thudding calmly in his chest. But Peter seemed to hear the flutter of his excitement anyway, known what he was thinking, because his grin widened.

"Mayhaps this was supposed to be the ultimate battle!" Peter tossed his arms high. He began to twirl across the room, light on his toes, humming erratically. "God versus Man! Or, well, it would have been, had poor Daredevil been up to the task. But alas, he fell to the temptation of sacrificial miracles—the taste of the rainbow! Let's call him Skittles from now on, yeah? But if Man won't kill God,"

Peter slung to a stop in front of the glass, a small palm smacked up against the glass, and it cracked. The Spider grinned, predatory.

"Then the Devil will do it."

Adrenaline flooded Tony's veins, made his teeth buzz in expectation—an urge to bite. "Are you forgetting Revelations?"

"Hardly," Peter trilled, ecstatic. "I don't need to win to ruin you, baby. I can the devastation to your reform! Besides, I like you much better than the other one. A Martyr. Please." His eyes rolled as his fingers scraped along the hairline fissures in the glass which had, until that moment, been bulletproof. "But you're not him. You're not Jesus—you're Judas. Ready to sell out the world for a few slips of paper that ultimately will amount to nothing. You are...pure greed," He breathed, enraptured even as his eyes darkened.

"And you think you can stop me? You're a child," Tony sneered, but it was a front for the surge of angry hunger that had roared to life in his chest. He ached with the need to press his fingers around that pale, flawless column of flesh and stain his mark upon it. Take that odd, rapturous insanity and breathe it into his lungs. Brand it back into Peter's skin with his mouth. Mine.

"I saw the way you looked at me, Stark. I can feel it right now," Peter sighed pleasantly as he continued to stroke his fingers down the glass. "The temptation that will allow me to strangle your empire from the inside out. Press my knives to your skin and snip it from the roots." He crooned.

"Oh please, baby," Tony purred. "We both know you don't actually give a shit about me taking over the world. You profit off other people's anger. You can't have the moral high ground. Your hands are covered in blood."

Peter slammed his hand into the glass again, hard, and the glass splintered. It pierced his skin, drew blood to paint its way down his wrist. He started humming again, louder. "Hmmm, you can't fix your broken promise, our ties have come undone; your lies fool no one. You can't offer your poison to me, in your kingdom of filth," He sang, high and eerie. He grinned, fangs bared. He leaned his head against the glass, pupils blown, and looked up at Tony through his lashes as he murmured, "You're just afraid to get your hands dirty."

"Oh but I don't need to," Tony breathed, giddy. "Not when I have you to do it for me." Without further ado, Tony spun on heel and began to stalk away, back turned on Peter's sudden snarl.

•🕸️•

When Tony pulled himself from beneath the rubble of his building three days later, the Spider's farewell still sparkling in his ears, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Forgot to tell you, I hid some bombs around here when I left Louie up there on your sign. My bad. Payback's a bitch, baby. But really, you could use some redecoration—far too much white. Red's more my color, for future reference, though I'm going to assume you knew that." The recording had mused, suit reaquired as black, clawed fingers toyed with the leather strip of red around his throat. He'd blown a kiss at the screen, the brat, and then the explosion behind him had cut out the feed.

Laughter rang from Tony's chest, light and toxic, and he turned his dusty face to the sky and grinned. A predator, a chase—a hunt.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

#now feed me critism heaven #starker #superior iron man #the spider #superior starker #evil spiderman #my writing #refract

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watery-lane · 5 years

Text

The Night You Cared: Epilogue.

Pairing: Modern!Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Summary: She is back. For how long?

Warnings: Angst

Words: 5340

A/N: End of my first Ivar fict! Hope you guys enjoyed it xx.

Part I / Part II

Listen to: Stubborn Love - The Lumineers.

“He couldn’t even look at his parents faces after that. I swear to the gods, master students are just undergraduates on crack.” You rambled lightheartedly, phone on one of your hands and the heavy luggage rolling right next to you. “Oop, sorry.” You apologised to the old, white bearded man attempting to leave the building at the same time you tried to get in. “Thank you.” You mouthed with a smile and a scrunched nose, trying to look past the dark sunglasses of the man holding the door for you.

Ubbe released a short and breathy laugh. You could not see him, but you knew him well enough to notice he sounded way too distracted to formulate a proper answer to your anecdote. You knew he had things to tell you, bubbling under the surface like water about to boil, waiting patiently for you to finish with what you had to say as he always did.

Part of you already knew what he wanted to ask. As much as you loved Ubbe, his drive was wired the same way as all Lothbroks: business, business, business. Sure, he was located in the HR department and understood the way you saw things. But, as a Ragnarsson, he could not see your desire of avoiding a life between cubicles and constant phonecalls.

“Well,” you exhaled, “I’m officially back home.”

“In which hotel are you staying? I can pay you a visit as soon as I finish with these papers.” You could picture him letting go the papers on the table like white pigeons as he casually leaned back against his chair. You waited for the lift, eyes focused on the flicking numbers above your head.

Ubbe knew about your never recovered relationship with your parents. They never called you back, not even after the success of your new business was announced through local and regional media. Although for them, the news of you working for another sector other than theirs after the humiliation they had to endure at your graduation party may have felt like a slap in their faces. No one assisted to your masters graduation other than your remaining English friends. You did receive heartwarming messages from Aslaug and her sons, who apologised for not being there with you. It was a lonely ending for such an important stage of your life, but you swiftly got through it. Soon enough you got into a graduate scheme at the British council and a big part of you was relieved that you got to spend another year without facing the problems awaiting for you in Kattegat.

Now you had consumed all your borrowed time, leaving you drowning in the sterile sand clock you got yourself into, unable to put down roots in your hometown after your parents decided to pull them all out.

“Hotel Boneless and Co.” You mumbled through a dramatic sigh, stretching your arms up and puffing your chest as you heard the ding of the machine and the pop of your bones. You were carefully rolling your suitcase into the mirror covered lift when you heard the wheels of a chair rolling loudly on the other line. “I can send you my location if you don’t know where it is.” You joked as you pressed a button and stepped out of the lift.

Ivar lived in one of the top floors of the building and you perfectly knew it was a suicide attempt to try and climb the stairs. But the thing was, you spent your whole day sitting on your ass and the last thing you wanted to do was to use your legs even less. ‘I’ll just call the lift once I feel tired’ you thought. ‘Nobody is going to steal my suitcase anyway.’ You brushed your concerns off, feeling the cosiness of class privilege surrounding you.

“Does Ivar know you’re staying at his place?” Although his voice sounded carefree, cautiousness and apprehension vibrated through his cherry picked words.

Your breath got caught up right in your throat, unsure if it was due to the fourth set of stairs you just rushed through or because you had no explanation for your mad reasoning. You shut your eyes briefly, licking your lips as you prepared to speak.

“It’s not like the first time I left, I promise.” You mumbled, your pulse thumping in your ears as you tried to not exhale heavily through the phone. “We actually talked during the past year.”

Technically, you were not lying. You two did spend time talking, sharing your everyday anecdotes through video calls or short text messages. He told you with pride about how the company stock was rising slowly but steadily, or how he was considering therapy. For his legs. On the other hand, you showed him your improving cooking skills and tenderly warned him about not stressing over things he could not control.

Although, truth be told, that was nine months ago.

You were not to confess this, specially not to Ubbe, but although you tried, your conversations and overall relationship did not seem to endure the distance very well. Slowly withering like flowers deep into autumn, the last message you sent him was a picture of a smashed avocado toast you had for breakfast with the caption ‘The only thing I’m smashing these days smh’. A little grey bubble with the word ‘Yummy!’ seemed to be the full stop to your year long conversation.

It wasn’t until you stopped on the sixth floor, sore legs burning and short huffs escaping from your lips when you noticed the silence on the other line.

“That doesn’t answer my question, (Y/n).” Ubbe finally sighed, voice sounding tired all of the sudden.

“Well,” you strolled past the long corridor of the sixth floor, searching for the lift calmly. “we can consider myself as the best promotion gift he’s going to receive.” You smirked as you remembered the news.

A few months after your graduation you were informed by Bjorn about the death of Aslaug. You were told she died in a car crash, that the brothers were mourning, hence the lack of communication during those months. The oldest Ragnarsson did not seem phased about the news, which was understandable due to the lack of relationship he had with the woman. However, he was soon pulled into a legal battle between the Aslaugssons and Lagertha, with Ivar investing most of his time and resources in lawyers and private investigators, convinced that the death of his mother was planned. Because of that, he thought that the best idea was to leave Kattegat for awhile, investigating the markets of different nations to see if he could expand the legacy his father left.

You heard later on that Ivar won the legal battle after investing at least half of his wealth in lawyers and legal counsellors. In two days he was going to celebrate his rise, ‘just like a coronation’, Ubbe mocked, a bittersweet tone tinting his voice.

“(Y/n)...” Ubbe licked his lips as he leaned forward and rested his weight on his elbows.

“I know, I know, I should have called and said something,” you started to ramble, arms moving up and down as you got yourself in the lift, eyes locked on the lone suitcase left in the middle of the tiny space as you mindlessly pressed the last floor button. “but to be honest, would it really have been really necessary?”

“(Y/n). I can’t hear you.” Ubbe frowned as he started to hear your voice being cut repeatedly.

“I mean, it’s only been one year, what could have changed? What could he have done?”

“(Y/n).”

“Sell the loft his dear mother bought him? Developed a God complex? Join a cult? Get married?” You blew a raspberry, rolling your eyes as you heard the ding and saw the doors slide wide open.

At the other end of the line, Ubbe shifted his weight as he tapped his index and middle finger on the shiny table. Its a small gesture, but it helps relieving the pressure he started to feel on himself. At that time you reached the silver door, your virgin nails pressing down the doorbell as your ears processed the sweet ring that came with it.

“Ivar has... changed a little bit.” Ubbe mentions, not sure where to restart the conversation. He acknowledged he could have been a better brother to his little one, maybe they would have never reached this situation. “You will be surprised.” You kept yourself quiet for a moment, a discreet side smirk making your eyes squint.

“I’m sure I’ll figure him out.” You praised yourself, lowering your voice to a mere whisper as you talked to yourself. “I’m pretty sure we were built together by the gods anyway.”

“Huh?” Ubbe squinted, tilting his head as he could hear you talking under your breath.

“Uh nothing,” you fidgeted while you looked around, weirded out by the fact that Ivar did not seem to be at home on a weekend afternoon. Your free hand rested on your hip as you looked around, foot tapping rhythmically at the melody on your head as you pressed the button again. “Oh.”

“What?” Ubbe straightened his back.

For a mere second, your furtive eyes captured a swift move of lights and shadows slipping under the door frame, your eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden vision as you shook your head confused.

“I uh... I think I just saw someone... walking past the door?” You frowned, brushing it off as tiredness while you picked your stuff on the floor. “Never mind, I think he’s not at home. I’ll call Warwick and book a room.” You started to walk away from the door, suitcase rolling behind you as you strolled back into the lift.

“Oh wow, the little rich girl can only afford four star hotels right now?” Ubbe mocked, knowing perfectly you would be pissed at his comment, snickering as you told him to fuck off. “(Y/n)...” He called your name after your giggles died down, the sudden cold tone making you shiver with anticipation. “Have you thought about the offer?” He asked cautiously, not wishing to rush you into making any decisions. You already had a lot on your plate and something told him your stay here would end up breaking you.

“Ubbe... I—“ You hesitated. “I’m not going to lie, Haiti sounds nice and the job position sounds tempting.” Your inner cheek felt the bite of your teeth, your hips rocking forward and backwards as you stretched down. “but I’ve got things I wish to take care of in Kattegat now.” You smiled at your last sentence, the thought of your little local at the heart of your hometown and its co-owner crossing your mind. “I no longer need to run away anymore.”

At the other side of the door, a distracted Ivar calmly read the financial reports of the last months as he sipped whiskey neat, never raising his head while he put the glass down on the counter.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know... a seller, maybe?” A sugary and melodic voice spoke behind him, bare feet squeaking on the wooden floor as she moved back to the sofa, carefree. “It’s okay, I don’t think she knows we were at home.”

“That’s not possible, sellers are not allowed into the building.” Ivar considers, eyes looking up as he processed who could have been. Since your departure and the death of his mom, with Floki and Helga away, nobody ever visited him much. His brothers would see him every weekday at the offices and Erik was only there when he needed a ride. Only Freydis was around now and that was completely fine by him. She knew what he needed. She knew how special he really was.

“It was this woman talking on the phone with huge suitcases, she must be selling kitchenware or insurances or something.” She responded vaguely as she stood up at the sight of her fiancé perking his head up after hours focused on his job.

“Wait...” He stood still, his sudden hunch making his stomach churn. He felt the bare arms of his loved one caress and hug his chest and shoulders from behind, the hypnotising and honey like scent invading his senses like an anaesthetic. Notwithstanding, that little annoying feeling in his gut never left. “Darling, where is my phone?” He asked, his fiancée leaving his side as she looked for the device.

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - Joji

You pursed your lips as you idly passed your hands over your gown, the sound of your heels clicking on the ground drowned by the numerous voices echoing in the tall, french style ceilings. You were pretty surprised your name was actually on the guest list. You had previously joked with Bjorn about being his plus one and how he was 88% sure he’d end up gods know were like Sigurd if Ivar ever saw you entering the gala joined by the hip, pretty certain Ivar did not know about your arrival. Guess you couldn’t surprise him anymore, cursing his brothers for telling him you were back in Kattegat.

The spot was not exactly like the one where your downfall took place, yet it filled your heart with the same sadness and anxiety, as if you were about to live another disappointment all over again. As you reached the main room, your walked more cautiously, as if the marble tiles were the ones marked and in charge of causing you pain if you took the wrong step.

“Nice dress.” You heard a feminine yet deep voice speaking to you, making you raise your head and brows.

The woman in front of you looked like a goddess. Like an actual goddess.

She could even be Freya, dark locks running free and caressing her shoulders, an aura of mystery covering her tall frame as she walked past an speechless you. Damn the wealthy and the powerful. Damn Ivar and his godlike contacts.

You couldn’t even say thank you, the woman long gone as she approached an oddly familiar old man at the other end of the room.

You shook your head in confusion, looking around trying to find any known faces to hold yourself onto.

“Well well well, look who we have here?” Your heart fluttered with joy as you saw the blond, long haired Ragnarsson approach you with the cheekiest grin in Kattegat.

“Hvitty!” You beamed, a shiny smile parting your lips as you reached for a hug. “Look at you, who’s the lucky one taking you home tonight?” You winked, hands grabbing the lapels of his suit tenderly.

“Well the night is still young, but I can put you first on the waiting list if you want to.” You released a careless laugh, throwing back your head as you cheerfully shook your head.

“I’m afraid my mind is already taken, baby.” You rolled your eyes, finally feeling the happiness that had been gradually dripping away from you coming back. “And this,” you pointed at your body as you twirled, “is a package deal.”

You noticed his blue eyes seemed way too out of focus for a brief moment, contrasting deeply with the airy laugh he released at your joke. You wondered what had he seen, body slowly turning back until you hear him talking to you again.

“C’mon, are you telling me you didn’t fool around in York?” Hvitserk raised his brow. Your lips parted, the ghost of a smile adorning your face as you shook your head.

“I love your brother, Hvitserk.” You confessed with a weak voice, not willing to let the rest of the party hear such open secret coming from your mouth. “I always have. I mean,” you huffed, shaking your head, “he’s a hell of a person to love, let’s just say I had to learn to love him.” You swore to the gods you had never seen Hvitserk, the most careless family member of the Lothbroks, look so concerned as he listened to you, his spark dying down as words left your mouth. “I— I know we’ve clashed for so long, and I’ve figured out that the truth is, we got to make sacrifices for the people we love. I resented him for so long because I thought he was selfish and he hated me at the same time because he thought I was selfish.” You took a deep breath as you reached your conclusion, ignoring how the young Ragnarsson kept looking behind you nervously. “And all of this was because... We were way too obsessed with the desire of having everything going your way. The night I let the past go was the best night of my life.” Hvitserk swallowed before looking at you.

“Is this why you decided to keep your share of the bar and reject Ubbe’s offer?”

“(Y/n?)” You felt every part of your body tingle at the sound of your name, blood rushing in your ears as you turned around. Your eyes were wide open, making their way up the suited up person that was now standing right in front of you.

“Ivar.” You whispered, eyes heavy and blurry sight as you hugged him tightly.

He hugged you back, the tip of his nose pressed against your head as he inhaled your scent, heart at ease and mind in peace at last.

“Ivar, look at you,” You cupped his face as you separated, lips travelling straight towards his. To your surprise he pushed away your hips slightly with his free hand, making you miss your target as you kept your hands where they were. “You can walk?” He nodded, eyes full of you and pupils so dilated to take you in better. Yet his face seemed expressionless, the force of his emotions hidden and tucked away.

Maybe that should have served you as a sign that things had truly changed.

“Yes, princess, I can walk.” He repeated, voice as soft as the touch that indicated you to stay a few steps away from him. You frowned slightly this time, your heart clenching painfully.

“Hey, you must be (y/n)!” A cheerful woman came by with Ubbe, who stayed behind her with a defeated look. Her little frame got close enough to pull you into her embrace, letting you know how glad she was of meeting you at last.

The two oldest brother exchanged a hardened glance, lips pursed as they observed how everything slowly started to crumble.

“So you’re the girl who made this guy human?” She stands by Ivar, puppy eyes looking up as if she devoted everything she had to him.

“I... guess?” You hesitated. “And you are?”

The petite blonde woman raises her left hand, showing a hard yet so fragile stone reflect every single beam of light in the room.

So bright were the reflections, they actually burned you down.

You could hear a lot of people talk and see her lips moving as if someone slowed down time, as if you died went to Hel with Hela and the doomed ones.

Then you looked at Ivar, his eyes never looking at you. That is when you noticed: you couldn’t read him anymore.

He didn’t seem to have only started a new chapter.

He started a whole new book.

You were pretty much out of the conversation at that point. You heard her name was Freydis, that she applied for a position as his assistant in the past. That she never thought she’d become the wife of the CEO.

“The nurse got really pissed when she heard he had been walking around without crutches before he started treatment.” Freydis said sweetly, hand on his chest as she caressed it with care. The statement snapped you out of your trance, eyes immediately finding Ivar, who shook his head slightly to the sides in an attempt to calm you down. He knew you were going to blame yourself for that. You were not at fault, in fact, you were the main reason why he tried to become better in every single way possible. Because that was what you deserved, because that was what you were. “He could have hurt himself with whatever he was attempting to do.”

Apparently, she also convinced him to get therapy for his strong mood swings and past traumas.

Little did she know, the decision came from Ivar after the last time he was with you. But you didn’t know that either and your heart broke a little bit more with every anecdote she told, every single story where she miraculously came and fixed the mistakes you made.

You could see how she was making him a better person.

“... But Ivar doesn’t really like to dance... yet.” It felt like a rambling at that point, a certain tint of fanaticism dyeing the conversation and turning it sour. You were tired at that point, eyes almost permanently stuck on the ground if it wasn’t from the tears you had to get rid of my looking up. You shot your eyes at him the moment you processed her last words, wondering expression etched on your face while he cleared his throat and looked away. It didn’t seem like him. You remember he used to insist on you to dance, like an ‘ordinary folk’.

The truth was, you never got to dance together. Too many things changed through the years, and there was this one thing he didn’t want to change too, which was how you were his first in everything worth remembering. Memories were simply sweeter with you in it. Because, as Freydis said, you made him human.

The thing was, he needed to be a God now.

He knew that you would be happier doing what you do, being free and helping people in ways he couldn’t even phantom.

Letting you go like this was the biggest sacrifice he will ever make.

To have you as a business partner would suffice, he always loved to watch you be you, working your ass off, to care so deeply about everybody like nobody else in his circle ever does.

“Ivar, Harald and Astrid are here.” Hvitserk finally intervened, the sight of your weakened state too much for your partner in crime to bear. Ivar nodded, sorry eyes staying a little bit longer on your hardened features before following his fiancée and brother.

“How was I not invited to the engagement party?” You asked to Ubbe, eyes still locked on your now ex’s back. Just like you couldn’t put a finger on when it started, you couldn’t really think of when your relationship ended.

“Cause it was nine months ago.” Ubbe mumbled, helping you put the little pieces together. You nodded.

“How?” You swallowed, not sure if you wanted to know. “How did they meet?” Ubbe pursed his lips, tilting his head tiredly as he sighed.

“She was a call girl Ivar used to hire regularly.” He tried to brush it off by shrugging. “I am not sure what happened, but Ivar started to get back to his old habits after you left. The only thing that remained the same was the local you guys own, he regularly checked everything was alright. One day Hvitty and I saw her leaving our offices, all suited up and everything.” You nodded, encouraging to keep going. “And boom, all of the sudden, after Lagertha’s trial, they were engaged.” He exhaled. You remained silent, feeling how a sneaky tear streamed down your face. “(Y/n)?”

“I think I need some air.” You whispered, stepping away from the oldest Aslaugsson and the rest of the crowd.

At least here out in the starless night you could blame your runny nose and teary eyes on the cold.

“Remember when we used to laugh at those sappy ass couples?” You asked out loud after standing by yourself for a while, heart more serene now that you took your time to accept that maybe you were not as good for him as you thought. You wait for Ivar to get closer, the sound of his crutches marking his distance rhythmically. You turn around and you can see concern itched on his features, lips parted as he looked down, checking the damage he had done. You force a smile instead, your fist hitting his shoulder playfully as you spoke. “Seems like you are one now.”

Ivar looked at Freydis slowly, who remained inside with Ubbe and Torvi, letting a sigh relief his chest.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

It was such a change of dynamics what Ivar experienced. With you, love and intimacy was never rom-com worthy. Love was roasting each other every other day, picking up on each others scars while making sure they never open again. Love was natural, fluid.

Now with Freydis, he seemed to need to prove her where she remained in his circle in a daily basis, lovey dovey words making sure she knew where she stood in his life. Truth be told, it was easier this way to love someone. He just needed to make sure to shower her with nice things, just like she did when she saw him doubting himself.

“How does it feel to be permanently tall now?” You asked, trying to change the subject as you felt the tenderness of his voice as he spoke about his future wife.”Don’t you feel like you’re going to fall at anytime?” Ivar smirks, resting himself in the railing you were pointing at.

“Nah.”

“What if I pushed you though.” You joked lightly, hand on his back as if you were truly going to do so. Ivar shrugs calmly before looking at you.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time you make me fall.” You roll your eyes, remembering the conversation you had the first night where everything seemed to be in the right place.

“Oh, c’mon, I already apologised and I don’t even remember it.” You refer to that time you supposedly made him stand up for the first time.

Ivar smiled nostalgically. He didn’t mean that.

“You know I’ll be around if you need me.” Ivar promised sincerely after staring at you for what it seemed like an eternity, getting closer to you as you nodded weakly. “I have to go and give a speech now, please wait for me until I finish it, alright? Be there for me.” He placed a finger under your chin as he inspected your face, puffy eyes, blood flushed cheeks and pouted lips revealing the damage he had done.

He just wanted to ask for a dance, discreetly, before his wedding day takes away the chance of feeling you twirling around him on his last first dance.

His hand held your fingers tightly.

Rough skin never felt so soft, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the cold blue eyes staring at you. His brows were slightly furrowed, solely noticeable for the ones that dared to stand closer to him. Marks appeared on his forehead, horizontal lines crossing out the words his parted lips refused to let out of his mind. Ivar was holding himself back, letting the fire of his fears and yearnings consume him from within. Only his eyes exposed his introspection, your heart clenching as you saw him process his thoughts. It did feel like he was holding to you for dear life, not wanting to let go like a kid who caught his first butterfly.

Until he did.

He took a step back, glancing briefly towards your direction before parting, heavy steps ringing in your ears louder than the classical music playing in the room.

He was not going to leave.

But you knew, deep down, that he was gone already.

You followed suit and collected all your strength left to move yourself into the room. Your legs seemed to burn, unwilling to take you closer to the golden stage for someone to end your remaining emotional and mental health left with a few words.

You see from afar how he gets onstage with Freydis, who hugged his broad frame with care before he grabbed the mic. He started talking about his father, how everything started with him and how Aslaug maintained the business when he was gone. He talked about taking risks, success and investing in things that had value and fight for them.

"Enough about business, tell us about that piece of cake next to you!” A family friend shouted, his huge round tummy serving as a place to rest his hand, his braided beard caressing his exposed skin as he laughed.

Ivar, standing right above the crowd, seemed to throw daggers with his stare, unhappy that a drunk man interrupted his ceremonial speech. But next to him the woman he was going to spend his life with giggled carelessly, getting closer to him with the wish of her fiancé to sing her praises to everybody in the room.

“How did that woman you love ‘successfully invested’ in you!” He speaks again and at this point, Ivar is fuming.

You looked around concerned, knowing that your childhood friend was short fused and may do something that could trouble him sooner or later. It didn’t help that the rest of the crowd was laughing too, insisting on him to talk about his fiancée, asking for him to be vulnerable in front of everybody.

You saw Freydis calmly poking him with his elbow and how his eyes were about to pop out of his head. But then he leaned down and let her whisper in his ear and gradually, slowly, his mood seemed to change as the crowd quieted down at the sight of him clearing his throat and picking the mic to speak again.

You frowned, not sure of what poison did she give him for Ivar to suddenly change that way.

“See, you just need to show her something, something she’s never done before. Something that captures your attention, that is good enough to capture her soul. And — and she will take her time to learn” Ivar starts, eyes seemingly fixed somewhere far away from the stage. Somewhere like the very last lines of people standing in front of him, listening to him. “She simply makes something better out of it. Something brighter, even though you didn’t even think it could be possible. Even though you couldn’t even phantom you’d need so much light in your life, she proves you wrong, just like she does in every fight.” Ivar paused to chuckle, remembering the time he tried to convince you to hire strippers for the club.

Everybody laughed after a deep collective ‘aww’ and he can feel the person standing next to him shift her weight and getting closer to him with affection. But he already was way too deep into his memories, pulling out good moments and unsaid words for the public to see how consolidated his relationship was. His tone shifted at the same time he noticed from afar how you start to break down, eyes not being able to look at him as your chest trembled. He was not aware of the harm those words would do to you without applying his own context, yet he begged for you to figure out that everything he said, he said it about you.

“And...” Ivar swallowed, vulnerability starting to drip from every word he said. “And the thing is, she doesn’t even do it because of you. She doesn’t search for nobody’s approval. She just loves to make things better. That’s her gift, that’s her growth.”

Ivar finished and, for a brief moment, everybody remained silent. It took a minute, but then everyone seemed to burst into applause, everybody but three dumbfounded brothers looking at their youngest sibling as if he had lost his damn mind.

By the time he got closer to Freydis for a kiss you were choking in your own tears, your throat too tightly closed it seemed too difficult for you to breathe. Was this the reason why he wanted you to stay? To hear what he had to say about his fiancée?

You shook your head, searching for the oldest Aslaugsson in the crowd.

You had enough.

"Ubbe, do you have a minute?” You asked weakly, doe eyes looking at the ground for a brief moment before gaining your composure again.

“Yeah,” he apologised to the guests he was with “what’s wrong?” He moved closer to you, the glass of champagne in his hand and the conversation he was participating in long forgotten.

“You were right.” You admitted your defeat, your head high and your chest puffed out. “I accept the offer.” You managed to let out as you took a few steps back, ignoring the way Ubbe said your name, with pity and sadness tearing through you as if you were a poor broken toy. “Tell Hvitty he can keep my share of the bar.”

Part I / Part II / Sequel (Words Into Smoke)

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drabblingnonsenseofthings · 5 years

Text

Best Friends

A/N: I’m just a drabble writer! Something small and quick to get off my mind and something to share with the fellow fans of the fandom :) I hope you do enjoy! I do not take any requests! Since I drabble on my current obsessions :)

Ignore any grammar mistakes, I got lazy.

Super cliche but you can’t stop me 8D

Best Friends

Kihyun/Reader Word Count: 2700+

Breakups are hard. Especially if since it was a one sided breakup. That's why you're glad to have a best friend to comfort you when you're down in the dumps over some guy who decided to break your heart.

"Thanks Kihyun. I definitely needed someone today. I just don't understand why he decided to do that. Am I not enough?" You groaned and curled into Kihyun's embrace on the loveseat in your apartment. “He just doesn’t see what I see, okay. He’s losing a great woman. His loss.” Kihyun said as he holds you closer.

You and Kihyun are both curled up on the couch binging a show on Netflix together. The one thing you normally do when you’re heartbroken. Also one of the rare times he has to see you when he’s not traveling around the world for his tour and promotions. This was weeks before he had to start Monsta X’s world tour. You loved the days that you both can do nothing but binge a show and relax. He’s an idol. And you’re busy with your work life.

“Screw him. All I need is you, Kihyun. Plus you’re leaving me for like three months, how could you. I need to have all my Kiki time I can get before I won’t see your face for so long. How am I going to even last.” You whined and hold him tighter. You felt him laughing. “You should come to one of the shows then. You already went to the first show, why not the last US show? Cause I’ll miss your face too.” He said while playing with the ends of your hair. “If I got the time, I will. But otherwise you need to keep messaging me every day and send what you’re eating cause no matter what I’m going to get jealous for going overseas.” You were jealous of Kihyun being able to go everywhere and eat everything.

“Wow, you’re getting jealous of me cause of the food? Woooow.” He threw out an exasperated sigh. “I’m jealous of the food. You’re not going to even miss me.” He pouted. “Nah. Of course I’m going to miss you. But real talk. I’m jealous that you get to eat food. Speaking of food, we should eat something. We’ve potato’d long enough.” You got up from Kihyun’s arms and pulled out your phone.

“Should we order food? Chicken?”

Kihyun left for his World Tour. You were definitely lonely without your best friend. It’s like a giant void. He does try and keep you updated on where he’s at. You would talk at odd times of the day when you can. He tells you that when they got to Europe, Hyungwon fell sick. He told you everything and sent photos in mass loads when he can. The thing he never forgets is to say, “Good Morning” and “Good Night”.

What did you deserve to have a Kihyun in your life?

Within the month he was gone, you tried to fill the void he left. Such as going out on dates again. You were still sad about the last break up but life moves on, so do you.

The new dates never prevailed though. You kept comparing your date to Kihyun. This was one of the longest times he had to leave without coming back.

After a month of him leaving this time around, you realized. You were in love with your best friend. You fell for the most typical thing. Falling in love with your best friend.

And magically you decided to just book a ticket to Los Angeles, after begging your boss for a week off. You wanted to surprise him by showing up at the concert. You kept in contact with the one person who can hold a secret, Changkyun. He helped you get the concert ticket being as sly as he can be to get a backstage pass for you.

Changkyun helped you fully realize what your feelings were towards Kihyun. And he fully supported it. Changkyun also kept you updated on Kihyun as well. How he does become sad when he misses you. He talks a lot about you when you both are apart from each other.

The concert day arrived. You arrived at the venue early to meet up with Changkyun before soundcheck. They did rehearsals the day before. After meeting up with Changkyun, he sat you down for a little bit.

“I’m not sure if hyung said anything to you last night. But he fell in rehearsals and fractured his ribs. He probably didn’t say anything to you because he didn’t want to worry you.” Changkyun told you quietly. You stared at him like he had three heads. “.... That idiot. No, he didn’t say anything like that at all to me yesterday.” You sighed. Your heart feeling really heavy with worry.

“Wouldn’t this affect the concert? He shouldn’t be able to perform. He went to the hospital right? Ugh I hope he’s okay. He didn’t even tell me this. What is wrong with him?” You threw one too many questions at Changkyun. He looked a little solemn at the situation. “Well, he insisted to perform sitting down. He is very persistent on this stage. Because it’s the Staples Center. The stage we all wanted to stand on together.” You bit your lip. He wasn’t wrong. If Kihyun didn’t perform on this dream stage, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

“There will be a doctor on site for the concert, and he’ll be on some strong painkillers at least. But he will have to rest and sit out on the rest of the L.A. schedule.” Changkyun told you. He looked at his phone and stood up. “I need to get going before it too suspicious on me leaving for a long amount of time. The other hyungs besides Kihyun-hyung knows that you’re here. I told them last night. If you have any problems getting in, call me.” Changkyun waved you off and ran off into the venue.

You debated if you wanted to go in the venue early and scold Kihyun for not telling you that he got hurt. You ended up just sitting there contemplating on what you’re going to do when you see Kihyun in person after 2 and a half months.

Get mad at him for not telling you that he got hurt?

Confess your feelings for him before the show?

Not see him at all until the concert starts, so he stays focused and not hurt himself even more?

You groaned and laid your head down on the table. You want to see him but you realized you should really wait until after the show to see him. He might see you in the crowd anyways. He knows how to always find you.

With that thought in mind, you decided to go see him anyways. You’re worried that he will over exert himself on his injury. A little scolding doesn’t hurt.

Strolling through security and into the backstage area, you manage to not get too lost on maneuvering around to the backstage area. You’ve seen a few familiar faces but not alot. Eventually you bumped into Jooheon who was playing with his niece Oli. Jooheon’s face lit up and directed you where Kihyun is without disrupting his play time with his niece.

Your heart felt heavy at the same time fluttering being able to see the best friend you fell in love with. You knocked on the door lightly and waited before hearing a confirmation on the other side.

You peeked your head in, and see that Kihyun was laying down, not in his full stage outfit resting on the couch that was provided. He had his eyes closed but you can see him breathing slowly to reduce the pain from his chest.

“Hey.” You said. And immediately Kihyun whipped his head over towards you with a giant shock. Struggling to get up safely to greet you better, but the pain got the better of him and he groans out, plopping back down on the couch. “Yah. Stay down you idiot. I don’t want you worse before your show. Why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself?” You said as you pulled up a chair to sit next to him by the couch.

“You didn’t tell me that you were coming.” He pouted. You rolled your eyes at him. “Because it was a surprise. My surprise was getting news of you hurting yourself.” He pouted and looked away. “I just didn’t want you to worry. Granted you would’ve gotten really mad if you learned it from the official post the company is going to post soon.” He said as he looked elsewhere besides your face. Sighing away, you grabbed Kihyun’s hand that rested on his chest and rubbed it softly. A little dry due to the weather, but it’s Kihyun in front of you, still alive.

“Just let me know next time.. You make me worried. I miss you, ya know.” Mindlessly rubbing your fingers on his hand, like your hands are trying to memorize his hands like it’s the last thing on Earth. You didn’t notice that he was staring at you as you started talking again. “I begged my boss for a week off to see you. Be happy about that. I’m happy I’m here to see you but I can’t even hug you after not seeing you for so long cause you’re hurt. All I can do right now is to hold your hand but it’s not enough for me.” You ranted.

You were definitely in love with Kihyun.

Never feeling like this before, where you want to cry after seeing someone you love, in pain.

“Don’t just lay there, say something Kihyun…” You pouted and looked up at him and locked eyes with him. His face was definitely pink. You can see a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. You bit your lip in resistance because of your heart about to burst out of your chest.

Kihyun opens and closes his mouth a few times and swallowed. His heart felt so full. He can’t form the words to say to Y/N. “I…--”

Suddenly interrupted by Minhyuk who opened the door abruptly. “Ah! Y/N you’re here! Thank god. Kihyun would not shut up how much he missed you. I kept telling him to tell--” Minhyuk rambled on and Kihyun panicked. “MINHYUK. What is that you need?” Kihyun interrupted his monologue. But also took his hand away from Y/N because he shouldn’t have yelled like that cause the pain just shot up quick. The interruption from Minhyuk quelled down his feelings.

You were a little shocked from the outburst from Kihyun because it was a lot louder than he should have shouted. You glared at him and he gave a small ‘oops’ grin. “Oh what was I here for again? RIGHT. We need to get ready. Show starts in 45 minutes! Gotta finish putting costumes on and we gotta take some pictures and get ready!” Minhyuk said helped Kihyun up from the couch. You helped out as well.

“I’ll go see the other guys. Go get ready first. I’ll talk to you later.” You waved him off as he gets kidnapped by Minhyuk off to the coordi.

You got to see Monsta X as a full group and completely dressed. You gave them your luck and told them that you’ll go out with the crowd to watch the stage from the frontal view from the General Standing with the rest of the Monbebes.

As the concert progressed you do see the chair dedicated for Kihyun. And everytime he stood up, you wished you could go on the stage and tell him to sit his injured butt back down. You were pretty sure almost everyone else who saw the message also was like that man needs to sit down.

You were proud of him though. Withstanding the pain from his chest to show his compassion for the LA show to the Monbebes at the venue and those who were watching on VLive around the world. You definitely could not keep your eyes off of him though. His unit stage, where he literally looked like a boss. His body rolls, that he shouldn’t be doing at all, during Oh My. His high notes during any song. The love in his eyes for Monbebes.

That’s your best friend. On stage being the best he can be for his fans. The one and only Yoo Kihyun.

Right before the show ended, you went backstage to greet them and congratulate them on a wonderful show before greeting the Monbebes for their event.

When they all came back, they all had a sad smile because it was their last show for the US tour. They see the end of their concert tour. Of course they were greeted immediately by their makeup crew and coordi. Kihyun was seen by the doctors immediately after the stage, making sure everything is ok with him because he has definitely overexerted himself for sure. After he was attended to. He was to sit down before the hi-touch event.

Kihyun had waved you over and grabbed your hands as soon as you came within vicinity. Everyone else was prepping for the hi-touch. He looked up at you, since you were standing in front of him. There was a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t pin down. You looked a little confused, but at the same time, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast.

“I wanted to tell you something before Minhyuk interrupted before the show.” Kihyun said, then started to mimic the way you were playing with his hands before the show.

“We’re best friends right?” He asked. You simply nodded. “What happens if I… If I want to be more than that?” He looked straight into your eyes like he was trying to find the answer that question. “I love you, Y/N. Like more than a best friend. These past almost 3 months have been painfully hard for me. I knew in my heart I loved you, I was just in a lot of denial. I missed you too much and nagged the guys to the point they figured out that I like you. ALOT. Soooo… will you do the honors and be my girlfriend?” He whispered to a point no one else around us can hear him but just you.

You wanted to jump on him and say yes. You had to soak all of that in. Yoo Kihyun confessed first. He asked first. You opened your mouth but your words couldn’t come out. He looked slightly worried since you haven’t moved or said anything in a disturbing amount of time. “Are you breathing, Y/N?” He questioned your state. “Yes.” That’s all you can manage out of your mouth at that moment. “On both.”

“I like like you too, Kihyun. I love you more than a best friend.. It took me those months as well to figure out that I liked you a lot as well.” You whispered to him as well. You can feel your face burn up quickly into a blush. You looked away from his face but he just moves with you to see your reaction. And all you can see is Kihyun’s big grin and pink ears from his sudden confession. His hands gripped a little harder.

“Wow can’t believe we both fell for the best friend trope.” Kihyun remarked. “I’d kiss you right now but that’s not a good idea.” He grinned. “Of course it isn’t a good idea. We’re surrounded by too many people.” You told him while swinging his arms gently back and forth.

“Also Kiki. Do Monbebes, me, and a doctor a favor. And sit your ass down more often. You know many times I’ve heard, ‘Kihyun, sit your ass back down’ at the concert. Too many. But otherwise, you did wonderful. I love the show. It was amazing, even if you messed up a little bit.” You told him and stuck your tongue out at the end of your little rant. He gave you a little face. "Don't remind me. Everyone else has laughed at me for it." Kihyun whined. "But what are best friends for?" You remarked and winked back.

#monsta x #monstax #monsta x scenarios #yoo kihyun #kihyun #kihyun scenarios #imwhippedforkihyunplssaveme

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maximoff-pan · 6 years

Text

The One with the Drunken Confession (Chandler Bing x Reader)

Request: Can you do one with chandler and its based off with ross, Rachel, and the drunk phone call?

Character: Chandler Bing

Fandom: Friends

Word Count: 3879 (woah, that’s loooong for me....oops)

A/n: So this is based off of season 2 episode 7 but with Chandler and the reader and the majority of it doesn’t follow how Rachel and Ross got together other than drunk phone call portion. I’m sorry that this took so long, but I hope you like it!! There also may be some grammar mistakes because I didn’t have a ton of time to edit this!

“Chandler!” Phoebe exclaimed. “Don’t look!”

Of course this exclamation only caused Chandler to raise his head from his New York Times newspaper, to see you and your boyfriend kissing outside Central Perk’s window.

“Great going Pheebs.”

Chandler immediately shook his head placing his paper onto the table to face the group. “No no no no no guys, I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m so cool with it that I don’t even feel anything at all. No jealously, no regret, nothing.”

“Chandler. You don’t have to pretend in front of us.” Monica placed her hand on his shoulder. She’d felt terrible after she’d found out you’d started dating another guy. You’d spent months telling her how hard you’d fallen for the sarcastic, lanky friend of yours that she’d convinced Chandler to tell you how he felt….only he’d realized it too late.

“I’m not pretending. I’m just deflecting.” Chandler meant for it to come out as a joke, but no one laughed, because to them, it wasn’t a joke. It felt like any time you or Chandler would get the courage to tell the each other how you felt, something got in the way. This time it happened to be your boyfriend Jack.

Jack was a nice guy (who Phoebe also claimed was incredibly hot, and no one in the group, including Ross, Joey, and even Chandler could deny her that), which meant that all your friends hated to admit how great he seemed because each of them knew how perfect you and Chandler would be together.

“Chandler honey, it might be good for you to go on a date,” Rachel continued almost worried she’d over stepped her boundaries by suggesting it, “you know, find a distraction to take your mind off of her. I know how hard this is for you, believe me.”

Chandler shook his head. “Thanks guys, but I don’t think I’m quite ready for that. Unlike Joey, it doesn’t take me less than five minutes to get over the woman I’m in love with.”

That caused Joey’s head to snap towards his best friend. “Just because you’re upset you didn’t have the balls to tell (Y/n) how you feel doesn’t mean you get to question how long it takes me to get over a woman. I am a gentleman.”

The door to the coffee shop opened and Chandler watched as you walked in, arm linked to Jack, feeling his heart drop. Suddenly, Chandler didn’t care that Joey had snapped at him, and now all he could focus on was you. Joey took the opportunity to nudge Ross’ arm and discreetly whisper on the verge of laughing, “No he’s definitely right, I am an asshole.”

Ross didn’t laugh at his friends comment. “Quit being such a child Joey. Chandler’s really broken up about this.”

Ross and Joey turned to get a glance at the scene before them. While they knew you wouldn’t notice, they could tell by the way he was looking at you as you walked into the coffee shop, that he wasn’t joking when he said he was in love with you.

“Hey guys.” You spoke cheerfully, taking a seat on the couch, as Rachel and Monica made room for you and Jack. They all had either replied with a hello in return or a simple nod, except for Chandler, who couldn’t seem to muster either.

“What have you two been up to?” Monica asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing. Any time Jack hung out around the group, they never knew what to do. It was hard for them to be supportive of your relationship when they knew how much it was hurting Chandler, and how much they knew you felt the same way as him.

“Jack took me to visit his grandma Jean.” You smiled at your boyfriend lovingly. “It was really great getting to meet her.”

Chandler’s heart sunk even further. When had your relationship gotten so serious? The last time you’d said anything to him, you hadn’t even met Jack’s parents, but maybe things had changed. Meeting the family, is a huge step, isn’t it? Chandler had never been good at relationships or commitment, and to be honest, you are the only person Chandler could ever think of him taking to meet his parents. Besides, you’d already met his parents and you hadn’t run out on him like everyone else did. And that meant something to him, but that also meant, if your relationship with Jack worked out, it would take him an exponentially long time to ever get over you.

He felt utterly stupid knowing that at one point, you had felt the same way. You were the best of friends. That’s all Chandler ever thought you felt about him. And for some reason, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to be happy for you, even though that’s what he desperately wanted. Monica had told him that you’d had feelings for him for a few years now and to be quite honest, that only made him feel worse. You’d said nothing when he was with Janice...and he and Janice had been off and on, and somewhat serious. God, if you had felt half as heart broken as the way he was feeling in this moment, he wouldn’t know what he’d do. How did you get through it? It wasn’t like he could ask you.

///////

The night was only getting started for Chandler. He had the apartment to himself, Joey on a date with God knows who, and enough beer (and maybe something a touch stronger) to help him forget all about the pain he felt.

It only took him about an hour, a couple beers (and some vodka) before he was feeling more than tipsy. If he thought getting drunk would help him forget about you, he was sorely mistaken. It only intensified his loneliness.

Sitting on the floor with the duck and the rooster, he half smiled. “You know what? You’re right! I should call her.” He nodded his head as the duck walked aimlessly around the apartment. “I-I just need to....to...tell her I’m over her. Yeah,” he pointed towards the wall, beer in hand, “I am over you.”

Picking up the phone, he dialed your number, only to get your voicemail. Deciding he wanted to leave a message, he waited for the sound of your voice, letting him know that this was your voicemail box, your sweet and cheery tone, causing him to smile, only for a moment, to be interrupted by that ever-so-annoying beep.

“Hi (Y/n). It’s Chandler, your best friend in the entire universe.” His tone dropped at the word friend, feeling how wrong it felt to say. He felt the need to mention how much being only your friend, was hurting him. “Because we’re not a couple....you know? Even though I really wanted to be.” His voice let out a dejected squeak that he wasn’t intending on, but it really didn’t seem to bother him. His mind was whirling with all he wanted to say to you that he knew he couldn’t face to face.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that whatever feelings I had for you, I’m getting over them. I am over you. Utterly and undeniably over you, so you don’t have to worry.” He chuckled, the knot in his chest tightening. “Oh and I’m happy for you. So so so happy. You and Jack make an amazing couple....I just always saw us being together one way or another.” At this point, Chandler knew he was rambling, but he really wanted to get his message across, despite it being a lie. He was hardly getting past the fact that you’d never be together.

“I know we’re constantly dancing around each other. It’s kind of a funny story.” He let out a sad laugh as he heard it pierce out of his throat. “Monica, she told me how you felt about me. And I’m really sorry you had to do that....watch me with Janice I mean. I know how hard it is to have to watch the person you’re madly in love with, be with someone else. Anyway,” he trailed off, “I won’t make this message any longer than it has to be. I should have told you how I felt, and I’m sorry.”

Chandler hung up the phone and maybe it was because he was drunk, it didn’t quite seem to sink in with him just how he’d ended the message.

“I’m going to regret that in the morning, aren’t I?” His slurred words were directed at the rooster and the duck, but they didn’t seem to be listening to what he had to say. Chandler, still decently drunk, followed behind them as they waddled into his room, somehow, Chandler taking that as their response to his question. “I agree. I definitely am.”

/////

“Shit.” He felt like screaming. “Dammit. I don’t....I don’t know.” He paced for a moment before rubbing his temples in anger and exhaustion. “Why would I do that?” Chandler began to panic, remembering what he’d said in the message he’d left for you.

You’d probably be at Monica’s place and hopefully for his sake, you hadn’t checked your messages yet.

/////

“Hey!” You greeted Chandler as he briskly walked into the apartment. “How was your night?”

“It was okay.” That was a total and utter lie, but what was he supposed to say?

“You think Monica would mind if I checked my messages here? I didn’t have time to last night but my boss said he was going to leave a message for me about an upcoming client.”

Ah yes. With you being a lawyer, Chandler knew all about your boss and your clients, considering that when you needed to complain about work, he always listened. (And vice versa).

His long voicemail to you slipped his mind, and he found himself nodding. "I don’t think Monica would even notice.” He gave you a smile, but almost as soon as it was on his face, it had dropped. Shit. What had he done?

You grinned at him, pressing the button on the machine to play your messages, the first one from your boss. As the voicemail came to an end, Chandler knew what was coming and raced towards the machine, hearing his voice begin to emit from it.

“Hi (Y/n). It’s Chandler, your best friend in the entire universe.”

“No no no. You do not need to hear this!” Chandler tried to turn it off before you stepped in front of him.

"Why?" You asked. "I'm sure it's harmless. Besides, I love the messages you leave me."

"Not this one." He grimaced. "I was drunk and it was really stupid."

“If you were drunk then I definitely need to hear this.”

You meant for it to come across as a joke but Chandler wasn’t laughing, and all you could see was fear in his eyes. While you two had been speaking (Chandler trying to get you to not listen to the message, and you insisting that you wanted to hear it) you’d missed a small part of it.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that whatever feelings I had for you, I’m getting over them. I am over you.”

It was Chandler’s voice, clear as day, but it almost didn’t seem real. It wasn't like any of the other voicemails he'd ever left you and the words he spoke surprised you. You were listening to the voicemail so intently that you hadn’t noticed him anxiously move towards the door in shame.

“I know how hard it is to have to watch the person you’re madly in love with, be with someone else.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be, not for a number of reasons, the main one being that Chandler had never been in love with you. Ever. It just didn’t make any sense.

“I won’t make this message any longer than it has to be. I should have told you how I felt, and I’m sorry.”

The machine clicked. All of your new messages had been played. You turned to Chandler, seeing how scared he looked. “You’re over me? What the hell is that supposed to mean. When were you ever into me?”

Chandler couldn’t even look at you. He was too afraid, and judging by your tone, you weren’t too happy with him either. (Not that he didn’t think he deserved it). “I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do. I was just really really drunk and I didn’t realize I’d done it until this morning.”

You felt angry, and hurt. Why hadn’t he told you sooner, before you’d gotten into a relationship with Jack. This man....He'd broken your heart more than once, and now he accidentally proclaims his love for you, just as soon as you're in a stable, healthy relationship. You had left him alone. When he was with Janice, and you saw that it could've been something serious, you hid your pain and you let him be happy, despite Monica, Phoebe, and Rachel telling you otherwise. All these emotions that had died down were now resurfacing. It had taken you months, possibly even years to get over Chandler, and now once you thought you had, he pulls a fast one on you and rips the ground right from your feet.

“You know what Chandler? I don’t think I can deal with this right now and I sure as hell don’t think I deserve to have to deal with this right now.”

The door opens as Monica, Rachel, Ross, and Joey walk into the apartment, only to see tears on your face, and Chandler absolutely distraught. Pushing past your friends, you walk out the door, directing your words at Chandler, ignoring the look Monica gives you, “Don’t follow me. I need some time.”

/////

“God Chandler. What the hell happened?” Joey asks incredulously, each member of the group sitting on the couch, ears ready to listen.

“I did something that I shouldn’t have. I said some things that (Y/n) really didn’t deserve to hear right now, and I just hope I haven’t screwed everything up.”

Monica gives him one of her all-knowing looks. “I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Monica, it had to be, or she wouldn’t have been that angry with him.” Joey unnecessarily points out, essentially prodding at Chandler's guilt. “So,” he immaturely grins, “what’d ya do?”

Chandler grimaces at his friends words and begins to mentally prepare for their scrutiny. “I told her I loved her. Not that I still do, but that I did once, and that I’m completely over her. Although I kind of implied that I’m still in love with her. I...I don’t know anymore.”

Rachel splutters. "You did what?"

"Dude." Ross utters. "Do you know how long it took for her to get over you? And now you tell her how you feel."

“I know.” He places his hands in his face in frustration.

Chandler couldn't have looked any more ashamed if he tried. He's upset at the fact that he could ever hurt you and even though he was drunk, he knows how badly he's messed up.

Phoebe turns to him with empathy in her eyes. "Ross is right. But I also know that I'm more right than Ross is." She smiles, flipping her hair over one shoulder, something that she does frequently as a display of her self confidence. "So, here goes.” Thus began a characteristic Phoebe, ‘pick me up’ speech. “You belong together. The two of you have been chasing circles around each other for years, and now is your chance. She already knows how you feel. Now talk to her and get her to believe it, because she's not going to take a chance on a relationship between the two of you happening, unless (Y/n) believes that you truly mean it."

"And we all know you do." Monica chimes in reassuringly, a bright and wide smile on her face.

He faces the group, a contemplative gaze in his eyes. “You really think I should go after her? She just told me-“

Joey grins. “She told you not to follow her. She didn’t tell you not to come after her.”

Somehow Joey’s stupid comment makes him smile. He knows telling Joey that following you, and going after you are basically are the exact same things will get him nowhere. And maybe he, and especially Phoebe, have a point. If he doesn’t go after you now, he might regret it for his entire life.

You’d known each other since Ross brought Chandler to their house back when you were all in college (Ross and Chandler your seniors by a couple of years). You hadn’t known Joey and Phoebe, none of you had, but Rachel, Ross, and Monica, they’d all been in both of your lives for quite some time.

He’d felt different than he ever had when he’d first seen you. Different, but good. It took a good few years for him to figure out that it wasn’t just some silly crush, but that he was in love with you, and once he did, nothing seemed to be the same around you. Clearly you hadn’t noticed his feelings for you, or you would have said something to him. He hadn’t noticed how you felt and hopefully still feel for him, assuming that you would never fall for a guy like him: awkward and unable to commit to anyone.

Standing up, Chandler makes a decision. “I’m going to go find her. I need to at least have her hear what I need to say, and if she doesn’t want anything to do with me, I’ll just have to accept that.”

“Trust me Chandler. It may take her some time, but she’ll come around.” Phoebe smiles. “(Y/n) loves you too much to ever let you go.”

Chandler stands still for a moment, his thoughts getting to him, before Joey nudges him harshly in the arm. “Go get your woman Chandler.”

Ross grins, mocking Joey. “Yeah Chandler. You,” he points at him enthusiastically, “you go get your woman.”

//////

Chandler knows you well enough to know that when you’re upset, you always head back to your apartment. Being a homebody, you don’t tend to go out to think, or to soothe your pain, and luckily for him, you live in the apartment exactly above Monica’s.

Knocking on the door seems easy. Very easy. But what if you slam it right back in his face? What if Jack is there? And what if Jack ends up wanting to get into a fight with him because it’s all too real....too raw. Raising his hand up to the green painted wood is terrifying, but almost as if he’s in auto pilot, Chandler knocks anyway.

You look through the peep hole when you hear a firm knock at your door. ‘What have I done? Why did I do that?’ Your past actions running through your mind like a wildfire.

You’re not surprised that that is what goes through your mind. You’d spent almost 6 months with Jack, and you’d given it all away, for something that might never work out. You’d broken up with Jack...for Chandler. You also know that you shouldn’t want to see Chandler, but for some reason, you can’t help but hope that he hadn’t listened to you, and that he decided to follow you. Somehow your heart always leads you back to him, whether you like it or not.

“Chandler?” Opening the door, he pushes in without you offering, clearly upset about something. “I thought I told you to not follow me.”

He looks scared, but utterly determined, with a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen from him before. “And I told you that I loved you (Y/n). Drunk or not, that means something to me.”

“You can’t just do that to me and expect me to drop everything for you.” Even though that’s exactly what you had done, you couldn’t let him in that easily. “I was happy with Jack. For the first time since you, since I’d fallen for you, I was happy. When I was with him, I wasn’t thinking about what I didn’t have, about who didn’t want to be with me, or what it could be like if you had wanted me back. It was just him, and me, and it was what I needed.” You push yourself further away from him as he stares intently at you. “Why can’t you understand that?”

“I can. And I will.” He gestures between the two of you. “But I need to know that you’re fully committed to Jack, and that you don’t love me. That you are over me.” He pauses. “Because I am not over you....not even close. But if you want to be with Jack, and you want a life with him, and not me, I will move on as best as I can.”

“Hold on a minute.” You stop him, feeling all the emotions come out at once. “You had no right to tell me that you had feelings for me. Everything was perfect with Jack. Whatever we had with each other, maybe that ship has sailed.”

“What,” Chandler asks, seeing your irritation only fueling him, “so you’re just going to put away your feelings? Hide them away like none of this ever happened? Like we could never happen?”

“I’ve been doing it since the day I met you.” You exclaim in anger. “I’ve gotten pretty damn good at it.”

You didn’t know why you were being so stubborn. You’d broken up with Jack, more so, he’d broken up with you, because even he could see that you still had feelings for Chandler.

“And you’re committed to him?” Chandler’s tone softens. “Jack?”

You wanted to say yes, just to throw it in his face. You’re still angry, but every second you look into his eyes, you can feel yourself becoming less upset. “No.” You say dejectedly. “I don’t think I could ever be fully committed to Jack. Not with you always on my mind, and he noticed it too.”

Chandler takes a few steps towards you, nervous and scared. He cups your face in his hands, waiting....looking into your eyes before he leans down to capture your lips with his. When he does, you feel a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You had been waiting for this kiss for years and now that it’s happening, you feel free.

Taking control, you run your hands through his hair, and you can feel him smile. His hands move down to your waist as his mouth leaves your lips to place a kiss on your neck. You let out a breath, and a laugh, Chandler beginning to tickle your sides. The kiss had turned from passionate and heavy, to silly and giggly in a matter of seconds. But it felt right, because Chandler was nothing if he wasn’t making people laugh.

“I meant what I said.” His voice is higher than usual, and his cheeks are flushed as he tries to catch his breath. He looks dazed, and you smile at the look he’s giving you. “I love you.”

Happily (happier than you’ve ever been before) you grin. “I love you too.”

#chandler bing x reader #chandler bing imagine #friends imagine #friends x reader #f.r.i.e.n.d.s x reader #f.r.i.e.n.d.s imagines

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