Tumgik
#and i wanna talk to random strangers about common interests
el-costae · 27 days
Text
i wanna meet new people how does one connect with strangers online at this time of age
1 note · View note
battyshopkeeper · 2 years
Note
Collage riddler x male reader au
Roommate Cuddles
Edward Nashton x Male Reader
Word Count: 1242
Contains / Warnings: Confessions, Cuddles, Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of Alcohol, Fluff, Suggestive Stuff, Omg they were roommates. 
(A/N: I’m back, have quick little fluff as a treat. Also yes I used this banner before.) 
Tumblr media
You had a really weird roommate. That wasn't you being overly judgmental, that was just a simple observation. It could've been much worse with the entire plan of becoming roommates with a random stranger. But there was no way in hell you could pay for rent with your cashier job, and you would rather die then befriend someone at this point. So your only option was him.
One Edward Nashton, the relatively shy guy that was going to attend your collage, with the added bonus of having a job to pay the bills. It was practically perfect.
And it was rude but even when meeting him there was a part of you that hoped Edward would spend the majority of his time away. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You couldn't even judge in all honesty since you were in the same boat as him. Your antisocial behavior that was worsened by your anxiety, it all lead to staying in your shared shitty apartment then going out to enjoying the collage life. Edward was probably the only other person you talked to outside of classes or work, and just like you he was the same.
It was awkward at first, both of you hanging around the apartment only being able to start the most stilted of small talk before it died off into uncomfortable silence until one of you called it quits and went back to your room. But there was a slow change, and it started when those god awful conversation starters actually revealed what interests you both had in common. Quickly warming up to him after that, being charmed by his odd personality that you originally thought would've been a point of contention. You two clicked after that and that was all you really needed to get attached to one another.
It became a usual occurrence to hang out in the living room. At first using the excuse of studying together, but that quickly turned to times where you just enjoyed each others company. From playing games together, trying new budget foods to mixed results, or simply rambling about whatever your minds went to. And today was one of those days, with both of you lazily sitting on the couch. The entire vibe changing when you pulled out a bottle of whine, a joke gift for Edward getting a promotion, a whole 5 cents difference. It became a blurry night with both of you taking swigs from the bottle, talking about your day, mainly complaining about classes. But it didn't take long for things to take a turn.
"Yeah, I feel like I'm starved—I would have died if touch starvation was a thing." It was a lame passing comment from your buzz, you didn't even remember what started that conversation. But it lead to an odd moment as Edward stared at you nervously, struggling to speak up as he gulped down the wine. "So you uh, never cuddled anyone?" "Obviously not." There was a small pause, his eyes locked directly to yours as you felt yourself become a little nervous, maybe more from embarrassment then anything. "Wanna test it out then?" Edward suddenly asks.
You were visibly taken aback at his offer, Edward softly cursing under his breath, like he realized just how weird that was. "I mean, I'm not... against it. Guess it's good to try new thing." You reply, scratching the back of your neck with a timid smile. "You don't have to, I mean you don't have to settle with me for that." Edward gestures at himself with a forced laugh and that oddly made you feel a little defensive on his part. "Come on, Ed. Who the hell would I trust to cuddle with? I hate the majority of people." He looked away at that, becoming a flustered mess so much that he had to bite down a smile.
"So then... how do we do this?" Edward stood up as a way to start, placing the almost empty bottle to the side with a groan. You laid down with open arms, a teasing smile spreading around your face. "Come here, dude." Edward stood there for a second, with a face like he thought he was about to do something wrong. It took you calling his name again for him to finally lay on top of you, so carefully, like you were made of glass. "Relax. I can handle you." You try to soothe while gently pulling him closer. Edward furiously apologized while trying to shift into a more comfortable position. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as Edward hesitantly laid his head against your chest before letting out a sigh when your arms wrapped around him. He was going to make a passing comment but it always died off. He couldn't even lie, this was a dream come true, feeling so close to your warmth and scent, it was enough to make Edward nuzzle his cheek against you for just a little more.
And you both stayed that way for who knows how long, losing track of time as you dozed off in each others arms. Only being woken up when bringing up something to keep your minds distracted from it's sleepiness, always dying into random ramblings.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" You playfully tease as your grip around him tightened, feeling him hug your torso with a small huff. "Pft, no." "That's a shame, I was gonna ask if you wanted to do this more." Edward paused. "... I really like this then." He said while hiding his face into the crook of your neck. "Yeah, me too." You whisper with a hand moving up to his neck, your thumb gently rubbing his cheek as you heard him let out another sigh.
"I can never imagine doing this with anyone but you." Edward confessed, his hands running down your sides. Fluttering your eyes closed, you let out a small noise as Edward kept his hands on you. You wanted to say something, ask him more but you stopped yourself, instead choosing to stay in the moment to focus on his voice and hands. And Edward kept going, whispering to you confession after confession.
"Ed, you're making me feel so many things. And I don't wanna make you regret this." You groan as he gently kissed under your jaw. "I won't regret this, I promise." He mumbled before going back to littering your neck with kisses.
"Fuck, I really really like you." You let out a lighthearted laugh, feeling him slowly stop. "I guess I kinda see you as my boyfriend sometimes."
"Do you mean it?" "Of course—" "No, like you're not joking, right?" Edward looked up at you with furrowed brows, pain lacing his face and voice. You were a little speechless, your mind blanking at how desperate he seemed. It was enough to make you sit up to tilt his head up at you.
"Eddie, who else would I want to be my boyfriend? Who else could it be but you? You're the only person I want to stick besides and I mean that." Edward couldn't stop from smiling, suddenly hiding his face in his hands, letting out a broken laugh. "Holy shit, are you crying?" You quickly go to comfort him, grabbing his wrists as he shook his head frantically. "It's the whine, These are—They're happy tears. I just thought that this could never happen." Edward laughed again before wiping his running tears. You took that as sign, leaning closer to him with a grin. "Wow, We really are walking stereotypes. Close roommates."
"Roommates for life?" He jokingly asks.
"Roommates for life." You reply.
162 notes · View notes
imaddicted2hs · 1 year
Text
ONE SHOT- Broken Mirror
Tumblr media
Its going to be sad sad so brace yourself guys.
And yes hey, posting after like decades lmao. Its just a little something i have been feeling lately so if you wanna feel a lil sad, this is the one shot maybe.
Word Count- 1.4k
Warnings- Angst
Happy Reading!!
---------------------------
I slowly breathe in as I mindlessly open my case. I grab the neck of my black guitar, pulling it out carefully. “You will play great y/n I know, don’t stress it too much yeah?” I give my friend a small tight lipped smile and look around to see if he’s there.
We don’t have the same class anymore but he has friends in my section so he often visits during the common break. I have spent nights memorising this very song by heart. I learned to play it on guitar so that I could sing it all out, all my feelings for him. But it will be like a knife was stabbed in my heart if he doesn’t show up. I notice a few heads turn towards me as I sit on the desk, positioning my guitar. I feel the coarse strings on my fingertips as I hold some random chords and give it a light strum. Before beginning with it I quickly glance at the door and to my surprise I make eye contact with him. It’s so quick that I barely see anything other than his green orbs looking at me and his body leaning at the door frame basically effortlessly. Without giving it a second thought I start strumming the intro attracting a few more half interested peeps around me. I get lost in singing right away because I have always felt those lyrics deep in my bones. I was in no way a singer but I was fine enough to not make other people’s ear bleed and sound tolerable if there was light music in the background.
“I wanna taste his lips, yeah cause they taste like you, I wanna drown myself in a bottle of his perfume.”
I made sure to change the pronouns as I sang the song and I tried my best, I really did, to not turn my head to the left as I said the you part but it was almost like my actions were out of my control. Ofcourse I regretted doing that because as soon as I turned my head, he stared right at me and I saw his eyebrows shoot up, which was almost unnoticeable, but I caught the slight surprise in his eyes. Regardless I continued and it felt like the song ended too fast or I swallowed a whole verse or something but maybe I was just being paranoid. My idiotic brain made sure to not skip looking at him at any of the ‘yous’. It was almost embarrassing because I felt like a few people noticed it. I strum the last chord and let it echo as I pull my hand away and smile at the small crowd in front of me. I didn’t even notice that I’d attracted a good amount, probably around 50 people, as I played. Not even a second later I heard a small applause and my friend's rushing words like “dude how” or “damn girl” as she gave me a side hug. I didn’t have the guts anymore to look at him again and my only friend who knew about him gave me a sympathetic look which I just shrugged to in response. So what really was the deal? Harry Styles. The boy I have liked since 7th grade, which means it’s been almost 5 years now. We were not strangers no but we weren’t close friends either. The dynamic we had was too confusing for me to understand properly. We actually did pretty great when it came to texting but it all came down to puddles of awkwardness and almost forced conversation whenever we tried to talk face to face. It wasn’t like that for the first year I’d met him but after two years of not seeing each other and only texting at times, it all ended in this weird ball of confusion. Almost like an intangible mess of lose threads. And what made it worse was my old ex best friend, now like a frenemy, was closer to him than I could ever be. It was almost excruciating to watch them talk so freely and even laugh together. It’s a thought that can make me bust into tears at anytime of the day so I won’t go down that road. I hear a few “that was really nice” and “great job, keep it up” as I start to put my guitar back in because boys around here can’t be trusted. All the compliments made sure to put a permanent smile on my face but my bubble is popped as soon as I see him approach me. “You looked adorable while playing the guitar.” It takes me a second to get a grasp of what he said but I mutter a quick thanks as I try to find something, anything, to do with my hands as we talked. “Could we talk for a moment?” I close my eyes and mentally curse myself because I had a feeling that this would happen but I also had a small hope that he won’t find the guts to do this. “Sure ofcourse” I reply as coolly as I could. I follow him as he tries to make small talks. I know I can break the ice and make it less hard but something inside me doesn’t want me to. Almost as if my soul is enjoying watching him struggle. “So how’s life treating you?” “Nothing much, what about you?” Him and his dry replies again. I just shrug in response to challenge that response. “So who’s the guy crush?” He askes me all of a sudden and I just scoff as a reflex. “Are you really asking me that right now?” My question is laced with annoyance and I can see that he’s taken back by my sudden change in mood but I’m done pretending now. Before he can say anything I attack him with my words. “Not a single glance I gave you was the answer to the question you just asked? I can’t take it anymore Harry, I can’t. Either you are just naive or you just don’t want to see what’s right in front of you.” My voice is shaking but I continue because his face portrays not a single emotion right now.
“You give me all of these mixed signals and I almost believe that you like me but then you sometimes say stuff that screams ‘we are friends’ right in my face. I like you Harry and this all is killing me.” I just stare at him because I know he deserves atleast a little time to comprehend it all. He sighs before he makes a go for it. “Y/n you’re cool and a nice friend but I’m just not looking for a relationship right now. But I promise that we can be really good friends. You can trust me.”
“That’s it? Good friends after this? What? Okay not looking for a relationship. With me or in general? And why didn’t I hear you say that you don’t reciprocate these feelings? What if that girl you like liked you back? You would date her I’m sure.” I can’t think straight as I bombard him with all these questions with tears daring to fall from my eyes. He just gives me a look from which I can’t make out anything and I just stand there watch him leave after he mutters an apology. I want to scream at him. I want to yell and let him know that now also he did nothing but communicate badly and I hate him for not liking me back but I don’t say any of that. Instead I break into tears and let all the frustration out because it really isn’t his fault. He never asked me to fall for him and he never asked me to get attached to him. He didn’t promise me a strong bond or a friendship. He didn’t because he didn’t need to. I fell into the ugliest trap of one sided love and I resent the fact that anything like that exists. I get a hold of myself and I sprint into the nearest restroom. I wash my face, tell myself everything is fine and somehow make it out alive of the next three hours of school. I reach home and in no time I lay on my bed and I cry and cry until I have no tears left. He didn’t feel the same. It felt like I had looked in a mirror, but it was broken. I’d shouted but the voice hadn’t echoed. I had thrown a pebble in the lake and the droplets hadn't repeled. I didn’t like this feeling and I just wanted to wallow in my sadness for the whole night. And that’s exactly what I did.
-------------------------------
Thoughts??? Constructive criticism is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated and I hope I have improved. I'll writing something longer and better soon maybe. See ya till then;)
63 notes · View notes
anjumbai · 4 months
Text
The Stranger by Albert Camus: Thoughts
Tumblr media
"But I couldn't quite understand how an ordinary man's good qualities could become crushing accusations against a guilty man."
The Stranger is the first book I read written by Albert Camus, and it surely won't be the last. It's a relatively simple and short novel. While simple in terms of the laid-back storytelling, the final parts of the book showcase something complex, a way of thinking not common to man I guess.
Our narrator is a peculiar man. I felt like this was another "unreliable narrator" narrating to the readers of his simple and random life. The final part of the book had made me question whether all of the book was a facade, created by our narrator to convince the readers that he was dejected, isolated from his own emotions. It almost appeared to me that he was so emotional that he hid all of it at some point. But we never see our narrator talk about his past, future or anything that could remotely provide temporary meaning to us readers.
He did everything in an option basis. If he wasn't doing task a, he'd just find a task b. If he was presented task c by some random dude, he'd just go along with it considering his conveniences.
Mind you, he wasn't isolated from the world. He didn't speak much or sometimes at all, but he was doing anything a normal guy would. It was just the total randomness of the book, the lack of insightful monologue that you find erratic. But the narrator made it work, and it was this randomness of his life that keeps the readers hooked I believe. There is no backstory presented to us explaining why he is the way he is. It made me question where the book was going, and the end result was surely not disappointing.
Might it be that some people are so convinced that life is arbitrary that they deliberately lose sight of themselves, so they don't madden themselves by life's so-called randomness?
Whatever it may be, in the end, I saw a very lonely man, craving for human connection. Spoilers ahead.
"For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate." this line solidified the man's loneliness to me. And it felt like a reminder of what extent we might go just for human connection. Just as we see our narrator crave even the hateful cries of people, so he can feel something at the end of his life. This in particular, which also happened to the be the last line of the book, really got me thinking and questioning why someone would choose to live like that. And of course I didn't have any answers.
Thanks to The Stranger, I can now solidify another writer to look into and read more of. The Stranger didn't add much of a value to my life, and I don't think I learnt something from it either. But the final parts of the book has made me interested in Albert Camus in general, who was an independent thinker: the type you'd wanna know about. Independent thinkers provide you with a variety of ideas, which you can compare and even challenge with your. Some might say you lose your individuality by reading such fiction, and it may even be true to some extent. But it's only through rebuilding myself in many ways do I feel alive, and that's why I'll be scheduling to read The Myth of Sisyphus next.
I did have low expectations of the book; considering how the internet just throws around the title. But I'm leaving with a positive impression on the book. 7/10, really simple and easy to get into. Choose the Matthew Ward translation, and read it while you're feeling a lil laid back, or if you shot someone cause the sun was annoying you.
4 notes · View notes
Text
[Multipost]
Mod: Attraction discourse subthread 
1. Bruh, the problem wasn't being sexually attracted to random people, no one was shaming wanting to fuck. The problem was telling a bunch of random people for absolutely no reason that you wanna bang random people in some weird creepy way. Esp since it was a response to some creepy 30 yo wanting to bang her 20 yo student. Do ya legit think that the most logical thing to do is, to think it's normal to tell complete strangers on the internet, via a DOLL confession blog that you wanna fuck some random person? Also, there have been a considerable amount of people confessing about wanting to bang their dolls, or enjoying "Ahegao" dolls, and no one has a problem with that.
Some of you really need to relearn what a fucking filter is, not everyone wants to know what makes you gush. People really need to figure out that a bunch of random strangers might not actually be vividly invested in your fantasy sex-life. You can be sex positive without rubbing your weird sex fantasies into people's faces, especially when you see how many people have absolutely no shame, and will even send weird creepy sex tweets to the victims of their infatuation for everyone to see. (Like every female Twitch streamer ever)
It's like those creepy koreaboo posts where they talk about "UwU imagine K-pop star #31132 as a cow, and how he'd just start tearing up if you touched his little weewee." No one needs to see you being a weird incel online.  (Yes this was based on a legit twitter post.)
Sex positive and not being a creep, are not mutually exclusive.
~Anonymous
2. the way some of you are about attraction is nuts. you realize it's pretty common for teens to discuss what teacher's the hot one, right? i know my friends and i did. and now that i'm an adult, and i'm in college, if i meet one of them at a bar or something? they probably wouldn't be interested, but if we hook up, that's two consenting adults right there. fucking go live in the real world, you people are sincerely unwell. like oh my god you are fundamentally broken and it's so fucking concerning.
~Anonymous
3. Do y'all really think all these confessions are from teacher anon??? I'm not teacher anon I just think somewhere along the way people got so fucked in the head about finding ADULTS attractive that now a bunch of young people actually think thought crimes are real. If I wasn't midway through my dissertation you people would be my new study project because I desperately want to understand 1) what went wrong with your development and 2) if and how we reintegrate you back into normal human society.
~Anonymous
4. Just to clarify, as the one who sent the question re "Is it ever ok to make a doll of someone you have a crush on in lieu of interacting with them", that was a genuine question and I've seen it come up with celebrity minimees etc., it was stupid of me to bring it up while the teacher who wants to f*ck their student shit was going on (and that IS creepy, power differences like that in relationships ARE very unhealthy I agree)- now y'all think we're the same person but I really was just curious.
~Anonymous
5. lol, my confession was specifically aimed at the creepy stalker teacher level of behaviour. But go off I guess. I guess telling people to get therapy if they start sliding down that kinda creep ass path is bad now.
~Anonymous
6. I hate how the creepy 30y/o teacher issue has led to people outright denouncing having a sexual attraction towards somebody like THAT IN ITSELF is bad. There are things bad and downright creepy about that particular situation and others like it. Sexual attraction in and of itself is a natural physical reaction we were literally evolved to have as humans and is acceptable in society. Some people are asexual and that's fine but it's creepy how anti-sex some terminally online people have gotten.
~Anonymous
17 notes · View notes
daemonhxckergrrl · 2 years
Text
vampire morality and ethics in popular media
it's spooky season, so the perfect time to have some musings about this topic. i love vampires. i love the many different things they can portray. i love their aesthetics. i love the questions a vampire-filled universe raises.
so, let's get one thing clear first of all - vampires are monsters. they're creatures of the night. literal undead parasites. and that's okay !! they don't need to be anything more than that !!
however, if you're interested in posing questions around morality, about the ethics of existence as one of those creatures, about nature and nurture and souls and all sorts, then yeah exploring that can be fun and add to your work !
thing is, the most common ways i've seen in popular media are either "abstain" (at the cost of sanity or health/power or both), or "vegetarianism" (animal blood, which is less powerful/less tasty). and tbh both of these concepts suck.
the abstaining one could be used as a way to talk about how that's not actually a reliable method (allegory for pro-life "you don't need abortions if you don't fuck" arguments and how awful they are) and the "veggie" one could be used to talk about hierarchies of value and how we moralise the same act depending on who the victim is. i think some media has done this with their vamps only drinking from homeless people or something just as awful (another on i think i've seen is prisoners ?).
BUT aside from a couple that i can't remember the names of, these ideas always seem surface-level and more a convenient way to have a "nice and friendly" monster who's "good, really".
if you want to find a good way to approach ensuring the survival of beings who are self-aware and don't wish to hurt others and carry that guilt, alongside avoiding relegating any class of being to "inherently disposable" despite being able to feel pain, then i think i have a solution.
the ethical issue we're tackling here is very similar to ones surrounding veganism. and, once you get past people doing it purely for the environment (ironic wrt PU/plastic leather alternatives), for their health, or to look trendy...you end up at one fundamental thing: consent.
if the argument is that cows don't consent to be repeatedly impregnated and milked or killed for their skin and flesh, that's the same argument why drinking a random stranger dry or sireing them is unethical: lack of consent.
so, how do we solve that ? easy ! we get consent. you wanna tell me there aren't people who would willingly be turned, or become 24/7 thralls, or even just offer up a blood donation (in a bag or directly from their veins, preference depending) to their local bat monsters ??
there are plenty of people horny for vampires, so that should be used in media. fucking blood brothels or something idk. it's ethically sourced from beings who can and have consented, and it comes with none of the downsides of animal blood (both for the animal and for the vamp). plus, i'm sure a few people would be into staging hunts for clients as well, if just rocking up and grabbing a bag or making out w/ extra fang wasn't their style).
5 notes · View notes
basementg-1-rl · 1 year
Text
hello! here’s an intro post :)
call me zuzzy
fandoms i’m in: stranger things, fearstreet, fnaf, batim, anything horror related, wendigoon, sam and colby, IT 2017, cigarettes after sex etc
general interests: history (specifically fashion history) mostly but also classics, literature, editing, music
as my bio says, i’m just a random teenage girl so i may commit some acts of tomfoolery on this account. therefore, a good chunk of my posts will be me either complaining about my a-levels or being utterly delusional.
always open for asks if you wanna talk or share common interests!
thanks for reading and have a nice day :)
2 notes · View notes
library-of-ohara · 2 years
Text
thank you guys for hosting this event!!! if anyone feels ~inspired~ could i request headcanons of kid with a gn!s/o who is pretty sociable and well liked by most people? maybe when they’re out together, they’re constantly stopped by random ppl who wanna chat with his s/o. could be modern or within canon? thank you guys again!!! it’s been so much fun reading all of the works you guys have published so far!! 👾
requested by: anon
written by: lemon ( @eustasssimp ) a/n time 2 spread more kid propaganda heheheheeheheh
Tumblr media
Kid x GN reader
SFW Prompt: Having a sociable S/O wc: 0.5k
Tumblr media
Kid would get so annoyed by how you get almost swept away by people who try to talk to you. No matter what scowl he has, he feels like he's the guard dog to someone who shines like the sun.
He fell in love with you, was first interested in you, because of the captivating presence you had. The red head would never admit it, but he (at least internally) used to be one of the people who longed to come up and talk to you whenever he saw you. Before the two of you got together, he'd find any and every reason to be around you. Even then, the constant stream of people who wanted to talk to you, thank you for something you did, got on his nerve.
It's jealousy, is what it is. Would Kid ever admit it? Of course not, this man admits to none of his feelings unless he does it in a fit of rage.
But, as much as he hates it, he knows what it feels like to be drawn in by your presence, so he lets these strangers, these townspeople, these commoners, come up and talk to you.
He'd cut the interactions off if they went for too long, meaning if they were longer than a couple minutes he'd tug you away with a grumble. You'd notice how his arm went around your shoulders a little more firmly, how he pulled you to him a little tighter.
Kid is frustrated by how people don't get scared off by his scowling, daggered stare, but that just goes to show how much people love you.
If he gets too jealous, if there was one person too many that came up to talk to you, he'd start to not be able to play nice (playing nice means not telling them to fuck off) and get a bit possessive. He'd kiss you out of nowhere as you talked to someone, making sure to smear his lipstick onto your lips just a little, or put his coat over you to make sure that there was no mistaking you as his S/O.
When the two of you leave a conversation from someone, Kid almost always has something to say, some sort of judgement he's made, about the person that you were talking with.
Kid likes knowing things, being kept in the loop and aware of the lives of the people who are important to him, and as much as it infuriates him that includes these nobodies that come up to talk to you.
"Who was that jackass" "They talked to you like you bought them a fuckign island" "They looked like that guy from last week" "What the fuck do you do in your spare time" The questions are always brash, harsh, and insulting towards the person that was just talking to you, but it's all in his attempt to not sound curious.
Because, of course, he's Eustass Captain fucking Kid, he doesn't wonder, doesn't care, isn't curious about anything, anyone, anytime (yeah sure okay bby)
204 notes · View notes
rafescoke · 3 years
Note
hiiiii!!
Can I please request a rafe x reader based on that song need to know by doja cat.
Basically the reader heard rumors about the rafe’s and he’s past with his ex. Basically all saying how he was a 10/10 on bed. The reader is furious but sad and quickly confronts the rafe. You can choose the ending. Smut or fluff ending!!
Also pls post the rafe x reader, jj fic with the 19 chapters plsssss!!!! I beg you!
Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron
masterlist
#Part 1
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past
Warnings: Straight smut, hella angst, substance, swearing, Rafe being a total dick
A/N: this one shot’s too long but i hope you will love it. i poured all my love into this however this isn’t my best work and im sorry!! 
p.s, i’m always open for requests <3
“Hey! thanks for coming,” Topper smiled, hugging Rafe’s side before kissing (Y/N)’s cheeks. He ushered them both to the middle of the ongoing party, to the centre where all of Rafe’s friends were hanging out. 
(Y/N) is never a fan of parties, especially the ones that she will have to tug on Rafe’s collars for them to finally enjoy the night alone. However, she passed up the chance of watching netflix with her partner tonight to go to Topper’s birthday party, since, it was, well, Topper’s celebration. 
If it had not been for Topper, she wouldn’t even bat an eye to this party, especially when she knows the amount of girls silently crushing on her boyfriend of 6 months now. Rafe’s incredibly handsome, with his hair messily parted and his blue eyes shining everytime they’re exposed to the glowing sunlight of Obx. . .  (Y/N) couldn’t justify why he would even choose her. 
“What are you thinking?” Rafe playfully groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s waist near him. His fingers played with the hem of her dress, giggling when she hissed, swatting his hands away. “Seriously. You’ve been quiet since we got out of the car.”
“I just don’t like the attention’s you’re getting tonight,” she sighed, rolling her eyes when Rafe poked her, an amused expression plastered on his face. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re this proud prick.”
Rafe laughed, throwing his head back, his hands still around her waist. She waited for him to regain his posture before kissing his cheeks. 
“Go and find Topper. I know you want to kiss him.”
“Not as much as I want to kiss you,” Rafe replied, laughing again when (Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him before walking away to go and get some drinks for herself. In truth, Rafe doesn’t understand why she would feel so inferior towards other girls; she’s simply the most beautiful girl he’ve ever laid his eyes on. No one can ever compare to (Y/N), and that’s for sure.
(Y/N) muttered a thanks when someone handed her a beer, standing on her toes to search for her friends. When she couldn’t see any of them, she began making her way towards Rafe and Topper. She decided that instead of waiting alone in the resting area of the club while everybody else is socialising, she would rather listen to whatever Rafe and his friends were conversing, knowing that somehow she’ll find something interesting in the discussion.
That was when she bumped into a figure, causing the person to drop the drink they were holding onto her front dress. (Y/N) groaned, not liking how she was already ruining the branded new dress she bought with Rafe. The smell of strong alcohol wafted into her nostrils, causing her to scrunch her nose.
“Watch where you’re going,” the person said, and  (Y/N) rolled her eyes before finally leaving the scene, not wanting to stir any unnecessary drama. She knows it will always end up dirty and Rafe will have to calm her down in the car. 
(Y/N) pushed her way through the swarm of sweaty bodies as the dress reeked with alcohol clung onto her body, and she momentarily regretted her choice of wearing a skin tight short sequin dress to a club where dropping drinks on someone is just something that is bound to happen.
She sighed when she finally reached the bathroom, quickly washing her stains with the cheap toilet paper. It left some white bits on her dress when she finally removed them, and she groaned again before washing the fabric under the running water. Her day was going totally bad, and she dreamed of the night she could’ve spent with Rafe if only Topper wasn’t born on yesterday’s date 19 years ago. 
“That’s what I’m saying!” a loud voice shrieked, followed by group of shrill laughs. “God, I really wish I’m still with him.”
(Y/N) raised her brows at the familiar voice, but thought none of it. Topper wouldn’t invite Rafe’s ex, he knows what she did to him. There was no way she was allowed to be in the private part of the club, unless someone had brought her as their plus one. 
(Y/N) shook her head at the thought, trying to focus on the stains that seemed to be making everything hard for her.
“He has this habit of running his fingers through his hair when he’s receiving head,” the voice continued, and  (Y/N) stopped in her tracks.
That’s exactly Rafe. Whoever the voice was, she was talking about Rafe. Rafe has this habit of running his long fingers through his hair while he’s whimpering, and it always drives (Y/N) crazy. 
She thought nothing of it, thinking about the possibility of another guy doing the same thing. It’s a common thing anyways; she wasn’t going to pull the crazy jealous girlfriend card that night.
She turned to pull another tissue paper, her ears still intently listening to the group of friends who seemed to not mind receiving any attention from their bold topic. 
“Now he’s with that (Y/L/N) girl. I honestly don’t get why he would be with her. Oh and-” the voice squealed, “Do you know that Rafe called me when they were talking?” 
What?
“What?” her friends asked in disbelief, and  (Y/N) didn’t move a muscle. She pressed her back against the tiled walls, listening close. Her heartbeat beat faster, and she could feel her head getting lighter.
“Yes! It was like, the first month they started getting close? He told me he couldn’t get over me and that he tried everything including finding me in her.”
(Y/N) felt the walls closing in, and quickly got to her feet to splash some water onto her face. She felt like dying right then and right there, but she knew she had to at least hear more to, now identified, Rafe’s ex girlfriend.
“He drove to my house and we just talked, you know. . . and then he told me something, and I refused. He got mad, I guess, and we fought like always, and he left me to be with that girl until today. Kinda sucks to be her, you know? Like the second choice kind of thing?” she continued, an amused tone lacing in her voice.
At that point,  (Y/N) had heard enough. She walked towards the exit as fast as her heels could take her, not stopping to stay goodbye to her now approaching friends. She could feel her hot tears crashing down, but she didn’t feel like crying in the club and having random strangers coming up to her to soothe her down.
When the night breeze hit her square on the face as she finaly exited the suffocating club, she let out the hardest cry ever as she tried to find any available taxis through her tears. There were none, seeing that it was only 9 p.m. and people had just starting to arrive, so she decided to walk to nowhere until she finds any yellow vehicle.
“Hey, (Y/N)!” a voice called out from behind her, and she turned when a hand pulled her shoulder. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Where’s Rafe?”
“Kelce, I’m not feeling good. I just want to go home, okay? Please, oh my god. I can’t do this right now,” she cried, covering her eyes with her palm. Kelce pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears on his new t-shirt. When she finally soothed down, he tried to find an answer in her face again.
“What happened?”
“I can’t tell you now, I just-” she took a deep breath, “I just can’t. Can you um, call a Uber for me, please? My phone’s with Rafe.”
“What? Why would your phone-” he sighed, taking out his own phone. “Borrow my phone. It’s safer this way. Call a Uber, get home, and don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”
(Y/N) nodded, kissing Kelce’s cheeks before ordering a Uber, waiting by the sidewalk impatiently. She was scared Rafe would come out to look for her, and she didn’t feel like talking to him. 
She felt like shooting him in his ribs until he’s begging for her to stop. 
When she got home, her fingers trembling and her dress now ruined, she stripped out of her clothes and got under her covers. Her mother tried asking her about why she had come home earlier than expected with a running mascara and a smudged lipstick, but decided to let it pass when she didn’t answer, knowing that something has indeed happened. 
She felt like screaming. She had trusted him so much, and he was even the first guy to take her virginity. Now she felt disgusted, thinking about how she had allowed herself to the sweet words he had given her before.
She couldn’t ignore the memory of the night she first experienced sex with him, and the whole sweet care he had provided after.
It was Friday the 13th, and Rafe decided it will be a good night to watch some type of a horror movie.  (Y/N) agreed, being a fan of horror, but until one point, she was bored with the super-slow plot and boring characters. 
She played with Rafe’s fingers, intertwining them with hers, before she got an idea midway of the female character’s scream that echoed throughout her bedroom. 
“Rafe,” she said, and Rafe hummed in response. His eyes were fixated to the screen, not paying any attention to her. She whined, “Rafe. . .”
“Yeah?” He finally looked down to her, and laughed when he saw the face she gave him. “What the hell is wrong with you? The best part’s coming up. Watch it, the guy’s going to- fuck.”
(Y/N) had slipped her hand into his basketball shorts, teasing the outline of his v-line. Rafe’s breath shuddered, and he grabbed her hands before things escalate.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He grunted.
“I just wanna try something,” she replied innocently, and Rafe swore he felt like his heart stopping right then and right there. She was that sweet girl, and he has never saw this side of her.
“Can I?” she asked, and with a tiny nod, she continued her movements as Rafe’s eyes stayed glued on the television screen, though his mind was already on cloud nine. 
She was so good, and Rafe couldn’t explain the feeling inside of him when he watched her palmed him, her mouth slightly open and her hair falling down to her shoulders. Rafe felt like attacking every inch of her, wanting to give anything that she desired. 
“Stop,” he said, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum from just your hands.”
“I want you to,” she said, and Rafe cursed. He liked, scratch that, he loved and is obsessed with the way she did anything to him, with her innocent eyes and her teasing smile. He felt like fucking her numb every single time she purposely brushed her hands against his buldge in the restaurant or bumping her bottoms against him when playing golf.
And when she would deny her actions, god, he felt like giving his all to her until she couldn’t walk.
“Rafe,” she said again, with that gint in her eyes. She leaned onto him, and he shievered when he felt her lips brushing with his earlobes. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
Rafe groaned, not wanting to look her in the eyes, afraid that he would do things he will regret the next morning. He felt her fingers around his chin, forcing him to look at her. 
“Please.”
“You told me you wanted to wait,” he said softly.
“I’m done waiting,” she had said, and that was enough for Rafe to crash his lips against her soft ones, pushing her lightly to her queen sized bed. He felt her hands playing with the hem of his shorts, and being an impatience fuck like his dad, he guided her hands to his already hard penis, craving for her touch.
“Fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes to the euphoric feeling starting to form in the pit of his stomach. His fingers fumbled with her shorts, trying to untie the waistband, and grunted when he couldn’t gues the knot.
(Y/N) giggled, untying the ribbon, sliding her shorts to the edge of her bed as Rafe waited with his eyes staring at her hands eagerly, like a prey waiting to attack. 
Once her shorts were off, Rafe didn’t waste anymore time to place kisses from her stomach down to the sides of her aching core.  (Y/N) couldn’t take it anymore, after so many nights of trying to picture this exact moment in her head whilst fingering herself, pretending like it has been Rafe’s fingers instead of herself, she wanted to feel him around her so bad. 
“Please, Rafe,” she begged, looking at him with the innocent eyes again. She moaned when he inserted his fingers in her, pleasuring her the way pornstars would from the many porn videos his cousin had taught him to watch since he was 10 before.
“Oh my god,” she screamed, not able to comprehend the strange feeling in her stomach. She tried to close her legs, only for Rafe to gripped them apart tightly, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Do that again and I’ll leave you hanging.”
It was the way he had said that that left  (Y/N) all red, pushing herself against him to reach her end. She felt a sudden feeling approaching, and gripped Rafe’s wrist to tell him. 
Rafe laughed when she had came around his dingers, feeling her juice soaking up his fingers and her bedsheet.  (Y/N) sighed, still heaving from her high, making a mental note in her head to love this other side of Rafe Cameron.
“Suck,” he said, placing his two soaked fingers in front of her face and watched her as she sucked on them like a little girl who’s licking off a lollipop that her mother had bought for her. He felt like cumming just from the sight of her face.
“I want you inside me,” she had said again, and Rafe groaned to look away, not wanting to be a regret she had made the next morning. He looked at her again when she sat on his lap, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.
“Please?” she whispered, and before he knew it, she licked his ear to the the side of his lip before placing a soft peck on his lips.
Rafe has never removed his basketball shorts as fast as he did that night, not even when he had felt an animal crawling in his pants in the pet shop when he was 8 that resulted Sarah into having a laughing fit when they found out that a hamster had gotten into his pants.
He positioned himself in front of her slit, waiting for any new demands for him to stop now that she had changed her mind. But there was nothing, only  (Y/N) demanding for him, and without wasting any more time, he slowly slided into her, strecthing her hole.
He grunted when she felt her closing in, knowing that if she kept doing that, he’ll finish straight away.  (Y/N) screamed as he fucked her with a quick pace, causing him to quickly pull her head close to him to whisper into her ear.
“Shut up, princess. Don’t want mummy and daddy to wake up, do we?”
(Y/N) shook her head, wanting to reach her end soon. She moaned against her mattress, smelling Rafe’s scent from it, and liking the way he would whimper when he hit her g-spot.
“I’m so close, baby, fuck-” he cursed, his pace getting sloppier. His fingers with his cold rings intertwined with hers as he slammed into her for good measure, and pulling out to aim on her face as she tried to regain her breath.
(Y/N)  felt a shot of hot load landing on her face as she finally looked up to him, his sweaty chest heaving from the ungodly practice they just did. Rafe groaned, feeling himself getting hard again from the sight of her with his load all over her, and quickly turned away to grab a clean towel to clean her up.
That night, with a soft lullaby playing from  (Y/N)’s record player that Rafe had bought for her in Italy, he ran his fingers through her hair as she snuggled close, watching the moonlight brightened the ocean.
Rafe sighed, now wrapping his arms around her, forcing himself to not touch her breast in any way. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you had pictured in your mind.”
“Are you kidding?” she turned to face him, “God, Rafe. That’s exactly how I wanted it with you.”
Rafe chuckled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “God. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Riing! Riing!
(Y/N) wiped her tears with her fingers before pressing on the green button, bringing the phone to her ears when she saw Topper’s name. She decided that he deserved an explanation after she had ran off from his birthday party.
“Tops?”
“Hey, baby, you didn’t pick up my call. I have to use Topper’s phone but, um-”  (Y/N) heard the crowd sang happy birthday, “But um, are you okay? Kelce told me you were crying and I-”
“I’m fine. You should sing happy birthday to Topper.”
“I’ll be there in a bit,” he said to a voice in the background, and tried to talk to her again. “What is it, baby? The line’s kinda shitty here. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay. I know you’re not. Can you please tell me what happened?”
“It’s nothing, Rafe. Go and enjoy yourself.”
“God,  (Y/N), don’t pull this shit on me,” he sighed, and she waited until the background noise lessen. “Okay, I’m at the smoking area. Can you please tell me what happened?”
“You used me.”
“I’m - what?” he asked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I heard her talking about how you drove to see her and you told her that you tried finding her in me,” she finaly confessed, her voice breaking. A tear slowly rolled down her red cheeks and she quickly wiped them away.
“Baby, it’s not how it sounds like.”
“Then what is it?” she yelled, clutching onto Kelce’s phone like it was her life support. “Fuck, Rafe, I gave you my everything.”
“Baby, I swear, it’s just-”  
(Y/N) waited for him to finish his sentence, and sucked in a breath when she heard the voice that had caused her this misery.
“Rafe! What are you doing here?”
“Fuck,  (Y/N), I’ll come by to your house, okay? Please, don’t do anything stupid, I’m coming back home-”
(Y/N) pressed the end call, letting go of the breath she was holding before finally throwing her head back against the pillow. 
#Part 2
add yourself to the taglist!
849 notes · View notes
eunkimmie · 3 years
Note
hi! I really liked your sal friends with benefits headcannons and I was wondering if you could do one for larry? :)
larry didn’t think of sex as something that was sacred or that had to be cherished, he just thought of it as a desire. if two people wanted to fuck, so be it. larry thought of himself as a relatively emotional person, even if he didn’t show it all the time. he also knew he wasn’t the worst looking guy out there, he definitely fit into a “type” though. with the long hair occasionally pulled up into a messy bun, the oversized and overworn shirts, loose fitting pants that pooled around his beat up converse with doodles all on the fabric. his tanned skin was even, save for a few patches of acne and some body hair. point is, larry was an attractive guy.
now, there weren’t a whole lot of people in Nockfell that were falling on their knees for him, especially since they knew him as a weird kid in high school, but y’know. tinder was a thing. sometimes he just wanted to chat, or sometimes he did use the app for hookups.
wasn’t much, really. he’d bring someone to his shared house, fuck, then he’d let them choose whether they wanted to stay or leave for the night. maybe if he took a shine to them, offer some weed and cook some shitty eggs for them in the morning.
one day, he matched with you. cute, interesting. and by the way you chatted with him, you didn’t seem too interested in a relationship at the moment either. he invited you over after talking for a day or two, and that was that. you stayed the night, waking to an offer of coffee, maybe some cereal? you agreed, and the two of you sat downstairs laughing. larry was an easy guy to chat with, and almost everyone found that they got comfortable with him and his laid-back nature relatively quickly.
“and what kind of move was that?” you snickered, moving the spoon around in your cereal bowl idly. “i mean, if you’re gonna throw someone on your bed, at least make sure you aim correctly.” he tilted his head back as he let out a boisterous laugh, fist slamming down on the table. “fuck, don’t bring that shit up! sorry for being eager.” the two of you joked like that before you decided it was well time to go home.
after that, larry gradually stopped hooking up with random strangers, and instead turning to you. the both of you were well aware of the relationship and had no issue. but, eventually, the two of you learned that, hey, you actually had some common interests. after a session, you say up in his bed and tried to fix your hair to the best of your abilities after being fucked senseless. “you have a switch?”
“is that a sex question?” he asked, and received a pillow to the chest. “yes, you wanna play something?” you shrugged, pulling a shirt over your chest. he rattled off some names of the co-op games he had, and the two of you had settled on mario kart, cliche as it may be. and of course you beat ass. larry wasn’t a sore loser, instead offering you a lazy smile every time you told him to “eat shit you fucking second place”
larry didn’t question it much, but eventually the two of you became friends. it was bound to happen, your chemistry was more than just sexual, and he was sure that if the two of you had met in person before tinder, you would’ve been friends as well. was it so bad that his fuck-buddy was coming over midday now to play games or watch movies? larry decided that it may be better not to question it. besides, the two of you had a good dynamic going here.
but here’s the thing—when two people spend that much time together in the day and are having sex at night, at least one of them is bound to grow feelings. larry would run his calloused hands up your waist, grasping for as much of you as he could get as his mouth placed sporadic kisses all down your neck. the way your voice sounded as you let out small whimpers made his heart beat faster and faster, but the best noise was when he was fucking you at such a fast pace that had your hands gripping tightly at the sheets, before suddenly he’d stop. he’d watch as you cried out and desperately tried to create some movement between the two of you, and larry would tilt your chin up and give you a lingering kiss, staring down at your tear-filled eyes before he’d finally move again.
every time you two had sex, he would pour all of his affection and feeling into it. he didn’t want to fuck up your friendship, so instead all of his pent up emotion would turn into multiple rounds of sex, sometimes rough, sometimes passionate. he didn’t think he would ever confess, he knew he couldn’t. it would be best to just ignore it, right? right.
so, he never did. he never uttered a word to anyone, not even his friends, about the feelings he harbored for you. and when he asked if you wanted to stay the night, his heart would leap as you nodded and cuddled up to him in bed. and how he felt such a surge of disappointment rush through him when you decided it was time to get going, and left. he fantasized about grabbing you by the arm, stopping you from leaving, and proclaiming that he did have feelings for you, that you were so much more than just a person to hookup with at night. that he wanted a real relationship with you, that he wanted you to stay with him and wake up to him every day, and how much it killed him to open his eyes first thing in the morning and not see your face, and that…
fuck. was he in love with you? was it more than just a crush? it didn’t matter, you didn’t want a relationship, and that was that. larry wasn’t going to push your boundaries, it wasn’t your fault that he had to go and develop feelings for someone he was just supposed to be having sex with. he was in love with you, and the thought made him embarrassed. he’d stay up at night thinking about how quick you’d be to reject him if he ever did confess. the thought of you reciprocating his feelings wasn’t even a possibility in his mind.
you bit your lip as you knocked on the front door to his house. it was strange. you were always attracted to him, of course, but lately you’d been having…thoughts. you spent so much time in his house, his room, that an image of you staying there, with him, had briefly crossed your mind the other night. how would it feel to wake up in his arms every day as the sun peeked through the curtains? to be able to walk over to your shared closet before tossing on some clothes and walking to the kitchen and make breakfast for him? you wondered if he’d help, if maybe he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before kissing you softly. “the eggs might burn,” you’d say, but he would turn the burner off and kiss you anyways. how he’d lift you up on the counter and run his hands gently down your sides and plant soft kisses to your lips.
your fantasy stopped right there as he opened up the door, greeting you with a lazy smile. his hair was up this night, small strands falling from the bun he had loosely tied together. and then, the two of you were in his room. but it felt different somehow. maybe it was your imagination.
he closed the door behind him, pressing you up against the wood after it locked with a small click. his hands worked your shirt, pulling it off before tossing it aside. he ran his hand down the side of your thigh, your legs wrapped around him as he supported your body with ease. your hands had cupped his cheeks as you kissed him, his breath shaky as he pulled back for air for only a second.
you didn’t go home that night. you stayed, waking up to larry’s arms draped lazily over your body as your back curved against his chest like a perfect puzzle piece. you turned over, slowly as possible as to make little movement. now, you were face to face with him, his eyes still closed and lips parted slightly. you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair from his face and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. you mumbled out a strained, “fuck,” before you decided that maybe it was better to go back to sleep.
he acted like he was asleep. cheap move, he knew that, but when he felt your fingers softly brush his hair aside, his heart practically jumped out of his chest. he laid there as you kissed him once, and he swore that if you put a hand to his chest you would be able to feel just how fast his heartbeat was going.
for weeks, the two of you unconsciously pined over one another, both of you too afraid to say anything. you continued as you were, meeting up for either video games or sex.
his room was dark, dimly illuminated by his LED lights, your body reflecting a slight sheen of blue as the lights hit your skin perfectly. his hands grasped at your hips, his back against the wall behind his bed as you bounced yourself up and down on his cock, face to face. he supported your movements with his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed. you were so fucking tight around him, and your bodies seemed to come together perfectly, like it was meant to be. the way your lips were parted as you moaned his name, and how you almost screamed when he met your movement by thrusting upwards, and how he had to cover your mouth with his hand as to not disturb his roommates. he had moved you to lay on your back now, his body hovering above yours as he fucked you into his mattress. your hands intertwined above your head, and you could fe that all familiar feeling of a bubble about to burst in your stomach.
“f-fuck..fuck! im so, i’m so fucking—“ your sentences weren’t even coherent as he fucked you rhythmically. your back arched, letting him hit an even deeper spot inside of you that made you cry out his name. you removed your hand from his, moving up to cup his cheeks as you stared into his eyes. “fuck..don’t stop. please, don’t stop.”
“fuck…” larry groaned back. he was close, and the way you looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered right then and there just drew him closer. it was all too much. the way you cried out his name and pulled him into kiss you. it just came out. he mumbled, “fuck…i love you,” and the way immediately after that you pulled him in for another kiss sent him over the edge. you could feel his cum drip out as he pulled himself out of you. you laid on his bed, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. he uttered that he was going to get you a towel to clean up with after he pulled on some sweatpants.
as you laid there, now partially clothed but still sweaty, you thought about it. you thought about what he had said to you, and how the words alone were enough to make you come undone. your face burned as you thought about it.
larry could really just kill himself. he was so fucking stupid. he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, fist clenched so tightly that his skin turned paler. he was going to act as if it never happened. it was for the best. it was always for the best.
as the two of you laid in his bed, you couldn’t help but think. and in an impulse, you blurted out, “do you really love me?” as soon as the words had left your mouth, your face heated up with embarrassment. you had meant to phrase it more carefully, but the sound of his voice kept repeating that same line in your head.
larry recoiled, barely visible, as he stayed silent. what was he supposed to say? he couldn’t even act cool in the moment as his mind scrambled for words, any words, to come to mind. “uh…” he said, gulping. he could feel his hands getting clammy. “you can, uh…you don’t have to feel obligated to stay if you’re uncomfortable. i don’t want you to feel like you have to pity me.” that came out a bit self deprecating, but he meant it. he was the one who had fucked it up. he was the one that couldn’t even keep his words to himself.
as you processed his sentence, you furrowed your eyebrows. you had been seeing larry for a few months now, was it? the time you spent together, you felt it had become more than just sex. you guys built a friendship, a bond. maybe it was soon, but life didn’t wait for anyone. “no, fuck..! no, i don’t want to leave, i just…” you paused, thinking about it for a moment more. “i think that i might, um. i don’t know, i can’t really think straight right now, i just…i know i have feelings for you.” and you left it at that. you didn’t know if you loved him yet, but you were sure of yourself.
larry’s brain stopped working for a split second in that moment. he took time to replay your words in his head, but only for a second, because before he knew it he was rambling. “wait, seriously? like, actually? you don’t have to say anything to try and make me feel better, know that. i don’t want to try and—“ you cut him off by shaking your head. “no, no! im not just saying this shit, seriously. im really sure of it, actually.” you laughed softly, half heartedly. it was hard to make eye contact.
larry let out an incredulous laugh as you smiled at him nervously. maybe this moment should’ve been more serious, but all he could think in that moment is that he felt happy. truly, genuinely happy. “let me take you out on a date,” he said, to which you responded with a bright smile and a nod. he couldn’t help but laugh again at the situation, and how unorthodox it all felt. he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
the two of you had stayed up late talking. just talking about life, about feelings and emotions. you two didn’t wake until late noon, but waking up to see your face snuggled into his chest was just about the biggest surge of serotonin that larry could’ve received.
373 notes · View notes
hyogonokitsune · 3 years
Text
longing -- suna rintarou x reader
college!au, tw alcohol use, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of angst, some smut at the end because I can’t fucking help myself 🥴 (oral -- m and f receiving, choking, creampie, cockwarming hnnff)
11,600 words
--
“Hey, ‘Samu, I gotta go lie down.” You had to practically yell to hear yourself over the music blaring from the speakers. Osamu was less than two feet from you, but you might as well have been yelling from a mile away.
“Huh?”
“I said I gotta go—fuck! Where’s your room?” You had to speak directly into his ear to make yourself understood; Osamu leaned in close to respond to you.
You hadn’t had that much to drink, but the atmosphere of the party was wearing you down. The insanely loud music and the crush of so many sweaty bodies were starting to give you a headache, and you were in desperate need of a quiet place to recharge. Most of the people were crowded into the living areas of the house, so you decided to escape to your friend’s upstairs bedroom to catch your breath.
You shut his door behind you, muffling the sounds of the party downstairs, and laid down on the bed, closing your eyes. Even here, you could feel the bass pounding in your head.
The door opened then, but when you lifted your head to look, it wasn’t Osamu standing in the room. You groaned; you definitely were not in the mood to deal with a random guy.
“Can I help you?” you asked in a hard voice, sitting up to look at him better.
“Can I help you?” he replied, utterly deadpan. He walked over to the desk in the corner and plugged his phone into a charger, his back facing you. “You’re in my room.”
“What? This is Osamu’s room.”
“’Samu’s room is the last door on the left. This is the last one on the right.” He turned around to look at you, his expression indifferent.
Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake, quickly hopping off his bed. “I’m so sorry! I must have misheard him. I just needed to get away from there,” you explained, gesturing towards the door.
He smirked at you. “Too much to drink?”
“No, there are just too many people down there, felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
His expression softened at your words. “Yeah, that’s why I came up here, too.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” you said, moving towards the door.
“You’re Osamu and Atsumu’s friend, right?” he said, stopping you. “They said one of their old friends was gonna come over tonight.”
Your hand dropped from the doorknob as you nodded, telling him your name.
“I’m Suna,” he said.
“Oh! You went to high school with them, right? They’ve told me about you.”
“Nothing good, I bet,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin.
“Almost all good things,” you responded truthfully.
“’Almost’”, he repeated, a low laugh escaping him. Suna watched you for a moment, looking as if he was thinking about something. “You can hang out here, if you want,” he said, motioning for you to sit back on the bed as he pulled out his desk chair. “As long as you don’t puke on anything.”
“I told you, I didn’t drink that much!” you huffed, but you sat down all the same. You had wanted to get away from all the noisy people downstairs, but this guy seemed laidback enough that he wouldn’t make your headache worse; besides, you were interested in talking to someone who had known the twins in high school.
Suna put on a playlist from his phone, setting the volume just loud enough to block out the house music blasting from downstairs. “You’ve known them a while, yeah?”
You nodded. “Since we were kids, but I didn’t go to Inarizaki with them.”
“Good call.”
“They’re not that bad!” you laughed. “Don’t tell them this, but I actually missed seeing them every day, so it’s nice that we ended up going to the same university.”
“Maybe I will tell them that, then they’ll spend more time harassing you instead of me.”
“Don’t you dare.”
You both laughed then, before falling into an easy silence. You shifted to get more comfortable on his bed, crossing your legs underneath you.
“Do you not like parties?” you asked.
“They’re alright,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m not too crazy about having ten thousand strangers in my house, though.”
You hummed in agreement, nodding your head. “Yeah, what’s fun about having random drunk people sweating all over you? I’d rather just hang out with a few friends, ya know?”
He snorted. “Hopefully it’ll be more like that in the future, but Atsumu really wanted to throw a big party for the start of the semester.”
You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “He just wanted to introduce himself to as many girls as possible.”
“Yeah, that was his not-so-secret motive.”
There was another pause. Suna scrolled through his phone, searching for something.
“You wanna see some embarrassing photos of the twins?”
“Yes, absolutely I do.”
He grinned, unplugging his phone to come sit next to you on the bed. He leaned in close, tilting his screen so you could see it. “Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, trying to suppress a smile as he showed you a picture of Osamu lying face down on the ground. “He tripped when we were jogging, completely ate shit.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, especially with Atsumu in the foreground holding up a peace sign over his brother’s body.
Most of the photos were of the two of them fighting; having grown up with the twins, it was a little comforting to see that they acted the same around their new friends as they always had with you. You felt somewhat nostalgic at the thought.
Suna paused on a closeup photo of Atsumu, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to swat the camera away. “Ah, this was after he got rejected by a girl and he swore he wasn’t crying.”
“Oh my god, I totally remember that day!” you said, laughing hard. “’Samu called me, begging me to talk some sense into ’Tsumu because he kept whining about being turned down.”
“Seriously? God, knowing that makes this so much better,” Suna said, a crooked grin on his face.
“Please don’t tell him I told you that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
He showed you nearly three years’ worth of pictures, pausing at the memorable ones to tell you the stories behind them. It was easy talking to him; you felt able to laugh naturally and relax around him despite being strangers, something that you weren’t able to do with most people you just met.
You didn’t realize how long you and Suna had been talking until you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket; seeing that it was a call from Osamu, you answered it.
“Y/n, did you leave?”
You were surprised by the panicky note in his voice. “No, I told you I was going upstairs.”
“Yeah? Well where the fuck are ya, ’cause I’m standing in my room and you’re not in here.”
“I’m in Suna’s room—”
Before you could finish your sentence, you heard footsteps stomp across the hall and the door flew open.
“What the hell are ya doing in here?” Osamu asked, still holding his phone up to his cheek.
“We’re fucking, obviously,” Suna deadpanned. You giggled, but Osamu didn’t look amused.
“I got the rooms mixed up, ’Samu,” you explained, getting up off the bed. “Suna’s just been telling me about your time in high school.”
“Oh, great,” Osamu said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s late, you want me to walk ya back to your dorm?”
“Can you even walk, or are you too drunk?”
“It’s Atsumu you should be worried about. He fell asleep on the couch downstairs.”
“Why does that not surprise me,” you laughed. You made your way over to Osamu, turning at the door to address Suna. “It was nice talking to you, I guess I’ll see you around.”
He was scrolling through his phone again, only giving you a brief disinterested glance. “Yeah, see you.”
 --
 You poked your head into Osamu’s room, only to find that it was empty. It was a little disappointing; you had been hoping to hang out with him for a bit, since you hadn’t had time to see much of him that week, but if he wasn’t around there was nothing to be done about it. The book you had borrowed from him a few weeks ago was already in your hand, so you placed it on his desk and turned to leave.
Stepping back into the hallway, you noticed that the door across from Osamu’s was open. You casually glanced inside as you walked past, catching Suna’s eye from where he sat in front of his laptop.
“Hey,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey,” he parroted as he took his headphones off his ears.
“I came by to return a book that Osamu lent me, but I guess he’s not around.”
“I think he’s meeting with a professor.”
“Ah.” You fell silent, and Suna turned his attention back to his laptop. “What are you reading?” you asked.
He looked up again, his expression a little sheepish. “You’re gonna think it’s boring.”
“Try me.”
He sighed. “It’s an article analyzing the influence of Shakespeare’s histories on English nationalism.”
Your face brightened as you spoke. “That was published last week, right? I bookmarked that so I could read it when I got the chance.”
Suna looked surprised at your response, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s pretty interesting so far.”
“I have to say, though, you didn’t strike me as the type to be into that kind of stuff,” you said, just a hint of a teasing tone in your voice.
His expression was blank again as he responded, “Well, I am a literature major.”
“So am I!” you said, smiling at him as you walked into his room and leaned against his desk. “I don’t think we have any classes together, though.”
“It’s a big school.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” You paused, thinking of a way to keep the conversation going. “What’s your favorite Shakespeare play?”
Suna glanced up at the ceiling, bottom lip rolling between his teeth as he thought. “I guess I’d say Hamlet. There’s just so much shit going on.”
“Ah, so you love the drama of it all,” you laughed. “I think it’s a tie between Hamlet and Macbeth for me. The twist at the end is just—” you cut yourself off to do a chef’s kiss, prompting Suna to laugh a little.
“‘Macduff was from his mother’s womb untimely ripped’, such a raw line.”
“Yes, exactly!” You were beaming at him, happy to learn that you shared a common interest. Over the course of the last few weeks since you first met Suna, you hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know him, despite him being your best friends’ roommate. He usually kept to himself, and on the few occasions when he joined you and the twins to play video games or get dinner together, he didn’t talk much. He seemed like a naturally reserved person, and as you remembered this, you felt a small pang of guilt for disturbing him.
“Well, I’ll let you finish that article,” you said, getting off his desk and making for the door.
His voice stopped you before you could leave. “You can hang out here until Osamu gets back, if you want.” You turned to face him, a little surprised.
“You sure? I don’t wanna bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me,” he said. “I can finish this whenever.”
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a rare invitation coming from him. Your heart beat a little faster at the thought.
“Have you ever seen ‘Scotland, PA’?” you asked.
“Nope.”
“It’s an adaptation of Macbeth that takes place in a fast food restaurant.”
“Yeah?” he snorted, a grin appearing on his face. “You wanna watch it?” Before you could answer, he was unplugging his headphones and bringing his laptop over to you.
“Sure, if you want to,” you told him, feeling like you were really lucking out.
Suna sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, patting the spot at his side as he started searching for the movie. You sat down next to him, careful to leave a space between you.
When you watched movies with Atsumu and Osamu, their incessant talking usually got on your nerves pretty quickly, but you found that you didn’t mind listening to Suna’s comments. Watching the film together seemed to make any lingering awkwardness between you two disappear, and before long you were laughing and leaning into each other.
“Oh, I hate this part!” you groaned when you reached a certain scene, turning to press your face into Suna’s shoulder.
“Jesus, that’s fucked up,” he chuckled, grimacing as Duncan’s character fell face-first into a deep fryer.  
“Then why are you laughing!” you said, lifting your head, but you couldn’t keep your own laughter from bubbling up in your chest. Suna gave you a crooked grin, your reaction only making him laugh harder.
“Oi, Sunarin! You got a girl in there or something?” Osamu’s voice floated in through the open door, his head appearing a moment later. His eyes widened when he spotted you. “What the hell are ya doin’ here?”
“Hello to you, too, ’Samu,” you said dryly. “I came here to return your book, but you were too busy to see me, I guess.”
“Took ya long enough,” he grumbled, but he grinned at you all the same. “I’m starving, you wanna grab something to eat?”
“Yeah, later,” you said, turning to look at Suna. “There’s still a bit left in this movie, you wanna finish it now?”
“Yeah,” he replied, a little surprised that you’d postpone hanging out with your friend to finish the movie with him.
“Ugh, fiiiine,” Osamu groaned, rolling his eyes at you, “guess I’ll go shower, then. But don’t take too long, I’m so fuckin’ hungry.”
 --
 “Maaaan, I can’t wait until this semester’s over,” Atsumu sighed. “I feel like it’s draggin’ by.”
“Yeah, it’ll be nice to go home for break.”
The two of you were standing on a patch of grass outside the gym, passing a volleyball back and forth. It was chilly, your breath coming out in silvery puffs, but after spending most of your time inside studying for the past week, you had both wanted to get some fresh air.
“I just know I’m gonna fail my bio final.”
“You’ll be fine, ’Tsumu,” you chuckled as you bumped the ball back to him. “You’ve been studying more in the last few days than I’ve seen you do in your entire life.”
“Hey, I studied in high school!” he huffed, his face contorting in mock annoyance as he set the ball. “Just ask Suna!”
The mention of his roommate’s name made your stomach flutter, causing you to mess up the course of the ball.
Atsumu quickly stepped to the side to get under it, giving you a nice, high set in return. “Jeez, you’ve really let your skills slip, huh?” he teased, grinning at you.
“Shut up, piss head.” Your cheeks were already pink from the cold, but you felt them heating up.
“Why don’t you play anymore anyway? I’m pretty sure there’s a women’s club on campus.”
You shrugged as you responded. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m good enough to play for a college team.”
“Bullshit.”
You heaved a sigh. “Fine. I just think it’d be weird to play on a new team. I liked my old team, ya know? All my good memories are of them, I don’t think it would be fun to have to learn a whole new dynamic with new people. I’d feel like I was… I don’t know, like I was cheating on them or something.”
Atsumu looked at you like you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “That’s still bullshit.”
“Well I don’t expect you to understand, you freak. You wouldn’t care who your teammates are, as long as you get to play volleyball.” You gave him a smile as you passed him the ball. “I still have fun playing with you and ’Samu, though.”
“You better. If that ever changed, I’d have to rethink this whole friendship.”
You both laughed, but a part of you wondered how serious he really was.
“Fuck, okay my fingers are actually starting to go numb. Can we go inside now?” you asked, shoving your bright red hands into your jacket pockets.
“Yeah, you wanna grab some dinner?”
“Definitely.”
The two of you set off for the campus dining hall, huddled close together for warmth. The sun was just beginning to set, making the bare trees cast long, spindly shadows on the path in front of you. You quickened your pace, shivering a little.
The dining hall was just beginning to fill up; you and Atsumu managed to grab a table near the back of the room before all the spots were taken. You wrapped your freezing hands around your bowl of soup, savoring the warmth. Atsumu wasted no time digging into his own meal.
“You might wanna wipe that rice off your face, ’Tsumu,” you told him in a low voice, “that girl over there is checking you out.”
“Huh?” he asked, his mouth full. His eyes glanced over to the direction where you were tilting your head. “Eh, whatever.”
You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. “You still hooking up with that girl from your stats class?”
“Yeah, I actually really like her,” he said, swallowing a massive bite of food. “She’s sweet, and funny. And she’s really good at—”
“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. “I really don’t wanna know.”
He smirked at you. “I was gonna say helping me study. Jeez, what were you thinking about?”
You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile.
“What about you? You been seeing anyone?”
“You know damn well the only guys I hang out with are you and ’Samu.”
“And Suna,” he added. You took a big gulp of your soup so you wouldn’t have to say anything in response. He was right, though; lately you had been spending more time with Suna, even without the twins around. “I’m kinda surprised at Suna, actually,” Atsumu continued.
“What, that he’s hanging out with me?”
“No, that he’s not hanging out with any other girls.”
Your brow furrowed a little. You had assumed that Suna got around; he was handsome, after all, and he had that mysterious, reticent personality that most girls went crazy for.
“I mean, back in high school he was kinda known for just having a ton of hookups. I figured he’d keep that up in college. I don’t know, maybe he’s too busy now,” Atsumu mused.
You mulled it over in your head. It seemed to you like Suna had more free time now than he would have had in high school; almost every time you stopped by their house, he was either in his room reading or listening to music, or else playing games with the twins. You were pretty sure he could have fit in a hookup or two if he wanted.
“Maybe he just wants to focus on his classes,” you offered, but it didn’t sound realistic even as you said it.
Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, like he’s gonna trade pussy for his GPA.”
“Charming, ’Tsumu,” you sighed. “It’s not really any of our business what Suna gets up to, though.”
“I’m just saying, it’s a little weird for him.” Atsumu’s arm stretched out to steal some food from your tray. “Maybe he’s met someone he really likes.”
His words made your stomach turn over, but you weren’t entirely sure why.
 --
 A few days into the spring semester, both Atsumu and Osamu came down with nasty colds. By the time the weekend rolled around, they were completely incapacitated, unable to do anything but huddle up together on the couch, sniffling sadly.
You had taken pity on your friends, so on Saturday night (after receiving several dramatic texts from Atsumu that he was dying), you decided to go over to their house to cook them dinner. The twins were curled up on the couch watching a movie, wrapped in thick blankets with used tissues scattered around the coffee table in front of them. From where you stood in the kitchen prepping ingredients, you had a clear view of them over the counter; the sight of them looking so sorry for themselves reminded you of all the times you had gone over their house to keep them company when they got sick as kids. You smiled to yourself, thinking of those fond memories.
“Y/n,” Atsumu whined from the living room, his blanket pulled up over the top of his head. “I don’t feel good.”
“I know, baby. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw him tighten the blanket around himself, a dopey grin on his face. “Y/n called me ‘baby’,” he said happily.
“Simp,” Osamu muttered under his breath.
Atsumu stuck a leg out from under his blanket to kick his brother. “Don’t be jealous, you scrub!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at them; their usual bickering sounded especially cute when their voices were so congested.
“Even when you’re sick you guys can’t shut up.” Suna had come downstairs, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.
“Sunarin! Are you finally gonna hang out with us?” Atsumu asked excitedly.
“Absolutely not. I don’t wanna catch whatever weird disease you guys have—”
“You make us sound so disgusting,” Osamu grumbled.
“I just came down to get food,” Suna continued, grabbing a Cup Noodle from the cupboard.
“Oh no you’re not,” you said, snatching it out of his hands. “I’m making dinner for you guys.”
Suna’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but he didn’t object. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, watching as you dried the vegetables.
“Suna, could you chop up the mushrooms for me?” you asked. “Oh, but wash your hands first, please!”
Without saying a word, he did as you asked. You could hear Atsumu snickering from the couch.
“Talk about a simp. Y/n actually got Sunarin to help out in the kitchen,” he said, smirking. Suna balled up the paper towel he was using to dry his hands and chucked it at Atsumu’s head.
“You’ve got snot dripping down your face, dude.”
“Shut up!” Atsumu cried, sniffling as he burrowed deeper into his blanket.
With Suna’s help, prepping the ingredients went twice as fast. You expected him to leave the kitchen once it was done, but to your surprise he stayed, leaning against the counter again to watch you as you cooked. Occasionally he asked you a question about what you were doing.
“The chicken takes a little longer to cook than the veggies, so I’m adding that to the broth first,” you explained. “The order you add things affects the flavor, too.”
“How many times have I offered to teach ya to cook, Sunarin?” Osamu called from the other room. “Guess ya only wanna learn when Y/n’s doin’ the teaching.”
Suna glared at him over his shoulder before turning his attention back to what you were doing. “I didn’t really have to know how before.”
“It’s never too late to learn,” you reassured him.
“Nothin’ sexier than a man who knows how to cook!” Osamu yelled, grinning. Suna ignored him, but you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink.
When the food was nearly done, you asked Osamu to clear a space on the coffee table. With Suna’s help, you carried over the meal you had cooked together, setting down the steaming bowls of soup, rice, and vegetables in front of the twins.
“My nose is all stuffed up, but this still smells so good,” Atsumu said, eyes closed as he sniffed the air.
“Yeah, your cooking’s always the best, Y/n,” Osamu agreed as he reached out with both hands for a bowl of soup.
“Oh, I picked up your favorite tea on the way over here, too,” you said, going back to the kitchen.
“What?! You really are the best!” Atsumu wailed. You walked back into the living room, carrying two mugs in each hand. “What did we ever do to deserve you?”
“It’s a mystery to me,” you replied, but the smile on your face was gentle as you handed the twins their tea. You passed the third mug to Suna, and the look he gave you was nothing short of tender as you sat next to him on the floor. The sight of it made your heart pound in your chest.
When you had all finished eating, you and Suna carried the dishes back to the kitchen while the twins dozed on the couch. After packing up the leftovers, you started washing the dishes and cooking pots, with Suna drying and putting them away.
“Thanks for making dinner for us,” he said quietly, not making eye contact with you.
“Of course,” you said, offering him a smile. “I don’t mind doing it.”
“You must really like those two idiots, if you’re willing to do so much for them.”
You looked over the counter into the living room where the twins were passed out on the couch. Osamu was curled up on his side, his head leaning against the armrest and blanket tucked up tight around him; Atsumu had his head thrown back, mouth hanging open as he snored softly. The sight of them sleeping so peacefully made a feeling of warmth spread throughout your chest.
“I’ve known them since we were three,” you told Suna, gaze still pointed towards the twins. “They’re like brothers to me.” You paused for a moment, thinking, before turning your attention back to the dishes in the sink. “I think it’s normal to want to do things for the people you care about.”
You caught Suna’s eye as you looked up to pass him a freshly-washed plate. He was staring at you intently, brows slightly furrowed, but you couldn’t quite name the expression on his face.  
 --
 It came as no surprise when, a few days after taking care of the twins, you came down with a bad cold of your own. You managed to suffer through your classes and had just returned to your room to sleep for the rest of the day when, less than five minutes after changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed, there was a knock at your door.
“It’s open,” you called out, thinking it was one of the girls from your floor coming to check on you.
When Suna stepped into your room, you nearly fell in your haste to jump out of bed.
“Sorry, was I not supposed to come in?” he asked as you disentangled yourself from the blankets.
“No, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you told him. You grabbed a hoodie from your closet and quickly pulled it on over your tank top, attempting to hide the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Oh,” was all he said. The two of you stood there staring at each other awkwardly for a moment, before you noticed the bag he was holding in his hand.
“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at it.
Suna blinked as if he had suddenly remembered why he was there. “The guys told me you weren’t feeling well,” he said, setting the bag down on your desk and pulling a container out of it, “so I thought I’d bring you some soup.” His voice got softer at the end, and you noticed a slight blush on his cheeks as he held it out to you.
He must have made it and immediately brought it over to your dorm, because the container was still hot to the touch. You struggled to keep your lower lip from shaking at the sheer thoughtfulness of it. “That’s really sweet, Suna. Thank you.”
“It’s probably not nearly as good as yours, but…” his voice trailed off. He scratched at the back of his head, the blush deepening on his face. “I tried to do what you showed me the other night.”
“Do you wanna have some with me?” you asked, but you were already taking down two bowls from the shelf above your desk and pouring out a serving for each of you, before putting the rest in your mini fridge. You ate a spoonful, eyes closing as you savored the taste. “Mmm, this is really good, Sunarin!” you smiled at him.
“It’s not bad,” he said, grinning a little bit.
“It’s really good for your first try!” you pressed on. “You know, if you want more practice, you can cook for me anytime.”
He snorted. “Yeah, that’d be a pretty sweet deal for you. But what would I get out of it?”
“Duh, you’d get to spend more time with me.”
“Oh, then pass.”
“Suna!” You pretended to pout, earning a genuine laugh from him. It felt good to joke around with him again, after not being in contact with him at all over the winter break.  
“Do you wanna hang out for a bit?” he asked when you had finished eating, setting his empty bowl on your desk. “Or were you just planning on sleeping for the rest of the day?”
You were a little taken aback at his question, since he had gone out of his way to avoid Atsumu and Osamu when they were sick. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch whatever I have?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “If I was gonna catch it, I would have caught it from Thing 1 and Thing 2 already.” His expression faltered a little. “We don’t have to if you don’t want—”
“No, I do!” you said, a little too quickly in your eagerness to not let this chance slip through your fingers. “I just don’t want to get you sick, that’s all.”
“I’ll be fine.” Suna rolled his eyes, smiling. “You wanna watch a movie? I’ll let you choose, since you’re sick.”
“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” you teased as you carried your laptop over to your bed. You sat down, propped up against the pillows, and shifted to the side so Suna could sit next to you. “Can we watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’?”
“Sure.”
“I feel like you’d kin Miranda Priestly.”
“I will leave this room, right now,” he threatened, beginning to stand up.
“No, no! I was only joking!” you laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. He rubbed at his face, but you could see his slight smile hidden behind his hand.
The movie was almost over before Suna realized that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. When he first felt your head lean against him, the pounding of his heart had prevented him from daring to look at your face, but after several of his comments had gone ignored, he finally peered down at you, surprised to see your eyes closed. When the credits rolled, he had intended to get up and let you rest, but when he tried to move, your body shifted to turn towards him, an arm reaching out to wrap around his torso.
“Rin,” you murmured in your sleep, and the sound of your voice saying his name caused all of his resolve to disappear.
With you sleeping so peacefully, your warm body pressed up against his, Suna couldn’t bring himself to risk accidentally waking you up. The sun had already set, making your room dark and cozy, and so he figured he could wait there for a little bit until you woke up from your nap. Lifting one of his arms to put it around your shoulders, he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, sunlight was streaming in through the window. He blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His movements prompted you to wake up, your gaze slowly focusing to find yourself leaning on his chest like a pillow.
“Guess we were both more tired than we thought,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep.
“Mmph,” you mumbled, noticing a damp spot on his shirt from where you had drooled on him. God, how embarrassing.
“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, shifting to look down at you.
“A little better,” you said. Sitting up properly, you rubbed at your face, attempting to hide your blush from him. “Sorry that I fell asleep on you.”
“It’s okay,” he said, smiling a little before his face shifted into a more teasing expression. “Did you know that you mumble in your sleep?”
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands even more. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“It’s kinda cute.”
“Please don’t make fun of me this early in the morning.”
Suna pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Ugh… I’ve got class at 9:45. I gotta go home to shower and get ready before then.” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. You lowered your hands from your face just in time to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach as his shirt lifted up; the sight of it made your cheeks burn anew, your head turning quickly so he wouldn’t notice you staring.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Y/n,” he said, putting on his coat.
“Thanks again for coming over,” you said, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.
He grinned a little sheepishly as he made his way to the door. “Well, ya know… you gotta do things for the people you care about.”  
 --
 Stepping out into the brisk early springtime air, you spotted a familiar head of dark hair a few yards in front of you.
“Hey, Sunarin!” you called out, waving at him when he turned around. He stopped walking to allow you to catch up with him. “Are you done with class for the day?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got practice.”
“Mind if I walk with you?”
He didn’t respond, but the slight shrug of his shoulders as he took off again told you that he wasn’t bothered by your company. You walked side by side, your hands brushing against each other’s occasionally, each brief contact setting off butterflies in your stomach. If it had any effect on Suna, he didn’t let it show.
“Have you thought about what classes you’re gonna take next semester?” you asked.
“Not really,” he said. “Why, you gonna start stalking me?” he added, lips quirking up into a grin.
“Just making conversation,” you grumbled, turning your face so he wouldn’t see your blush.
“Y/n!”
You looked up in the direction the voice came from to see a guy from one of your classes making his way over to you. You greeted him politely, and he launched into a conversation about the latest paper you had been assigned, falling into step beside you.
“Are you doing anything now? You wanna go get dinner with me?” he asked eventually.
“Oh, I can’t, actually,” you told him. “I have plans with a friend tonight.”
His face fell a little, but he quickly bounced back. “That’s alright, some other time maybe.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know what you’re doing for spring break yet?”
“I’m not really sure, I’ll probably just stay on campus,” you said.
“Oh, me too!” he said, grinning at you. “Maybe we could get together then.”
You had reached a branch in the path, and he turned right to continue towards the dining hall.
“See ya around!” he said with a wave.
You waved back, noticing that Suna’s eyes lingered on the other guy’s back as he walked away.
“That dude likes you,” he said in a deadpan voice.
“Huh?”
“He was trying to ask you out, dumbass.”
“What? No he wasn’t. I don’t think he’d do that in front of you.”
“Well, if he asks you again you should say yes.” Suna was smirking at you, but his voice was devoid of any emotion.
His words pricked at your heart, making your chest feel tight. The idea of him encouraging you to go out with someone else was a little upsetting. You turned your head away from him.
“Yeah, maybe,” you said absentmindedly. In truth, you had no interest in going out with that other guy, but Suna’s comment had left you unsure of what to say.
His brows creased a bit. Turning back to look at him, you saw that his gaze was significantly colder than it had been before. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he cut you off before you could.
“I’m gonna be late for practice,” he said flatly, walking off quickly and leaving you to stand alone on the path.
 --
 After that day, things between you and Suna were different. He was suddenly making himself even more scarce than usual, and during the few times when you managed to see him, he was quieter than before. You couldn’t think of what would make him act so coldly towards you, and the possible explanations you came up with in your mind only made you feel worse.
You were waiting outside the gym one evening for Atsumu and Suna to get out of practice. When you saw them walking out the door you went over to greet them, handing over the bag of pork buns you had picked up at the convenience store.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Atsumu said, gratefully accepting the food you offered him; Suna, however, stepped away before you could pass it to him.
“Sorry, I’ve got stuff to do,” he said cryptically before turning from you.
“We were planning on playing Smash later, are you gonna be around?” you asked.
“Probably not,” was all he said, waving one hand over his shoulder as he walked away.
Stung, you turned to Atsumu. “Suna’s been avoiding me, right? I haven’t been imagining that?”
Mouth full of pork bun, he shook his head. Swallowing thickly, he said, “Nope, he’s definitely been MIA lately. I don’t know why, though.” Seeing the way you bit your lower lip in worry, he was quick to speak again. “I’m sure it’s got nothin’ to do with you! Sunarin’s probably just busy.”
“Do you think he’s seeing someone?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.
“Nah, if he was I’d know about it. He’s never brought anyone back to the house.” He crammed half a pork bun into his mouth, struggling to chew it. “Honestly, he might just be a little homesick.”
“What?” It was hard to imagine someone like Suna being homesick; considering he spent so much time on his own, you didn’t think of him as the type of person to miss anyone.
“I mean, he told me he’s goin’ home for spring break to spend time with his sister,” Atsumu explained. “He must really miss her.”
You couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the news. A part of you had hoped that Suna’s avoidance of you actually was due to his busy schedule, and you had been looking forward to your spring break as the perfect opportunity to get some quality time with him. The fact that he wasn’t going to be there confirmed your doubts, proving, in your mind at least, that he really didn’t want to be around you anymore.
“You got any more of these?” Atsumu’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.
“Yeah, here,” you said, giving him the bag of pork buns intended for Suna.
He continued chattering the whole walk back to the house, but you hardly processed a word. You were too busy wondering about what you could have possibly done to make Suna no longer want to be your friend.
--
 It had been several weeks since you had spent any time with Suna, aside from the brief moments when you saw each other at the house when you were visiting the twins, but he always gave an excuse as to why he couldn’t hang around. You knew he was a private person, but his sudden avoidance of you hurt twice as much after he had seemed to be getting more comfortable around you. Several times you had texted him to ask if he wanted to get food with you or watch a movie together, but he either claimed he was too busy with classes, or ignored you altogether. Eventually, you gave up trying to contact him.
But that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering when you did see him in person. You found yourself living for the moments when you would be sitting in the living room with Osamu or Atsumu, and Suna would come downstairs, giving you a quick nod before rushing out the door; or when you would be hanging out in Osamu’s room and Suna would walk down the hallway, locking eyes with you for half a second before going into his own room and shutting the door behind him. Each time you hoped he would stop and actually say something to you, and each time you were left disappointed.
So it came as a surprise when, one day when you and Osamu were in his kitchen making onigiri together, Suna came downstairs and actually lingered for a bit, even after spotting you. Not wanting to scare him off, you bit your tongue as he sat on the counter, watching you form the rice balls with your hands.
“Those look good,” he said; you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or Osamu.
“Here,” Osamu said, putting some on a plate and passing it to his friend. “You headin’ out soon?”
Suna nodded, his mouth full of rice. “Yeah, I’ve gotta meet with my advisor.”
“We’re going out to eat later, you should come. You haven’t hung out with us in a while.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been kinda flakey lately,” he said, his tone apologetic.
You couldn’t help yourself. Looking him in the eye, you spoke. “We’ve missed you, Rintarou. It’s not as fun without you around.”
“Gee, thanks,” Osamu muttered, but you hardly heard him. For the first time in weeks, Suna was looking directly at you, his gaze almost soft.
“Can’t imagine how rough it must be for you to have to spend time with these two goons,” he said, grinning.
“I’m standing right here, man,” Osamu said, his voice sounding only slightly annoyed.
You laughed, and to your amazement Suna returned it. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, hopeful that this awkward tension between you two was finally over.
“Text me when you guys are leaving, okay?” he said, hopping down off the counter and making for the front door. “I’ll meet you there.”
You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off your face even after he left. The thought of spending time with him again was almost too much for you.
“I wish you guys would just fuckin’ kiss already,” Osamu griped, his hands still deftly forming perfectly-shaped onigiri.
“Huh?!” you spluttered, nearly choking as his words sank in. “Who?”
“You and Sunarin, you clown. Do ya have any idea how painful it’s been watchin’ you two idiots for the past few months? Jesus, even ’Tsumu noticed.”
“Noticed what?”
“That you guys like each other!”
“I don’t—wha—,” you fumbled over your words, not entirely sure what to say. “Suna doesn’t like me!”
“Uh huh, yeah, okay. Y/n, the man made you a whole-ass pot of soup when you were sick. I’ve known him for years and he won’t even let me borrow his phone charger.”
“If he likes me, then why has he spent the last two months completely ignoring me?”
“Because Rintarou has the emotional intelligence of a fuckin’ cantaloupe.” Osamu finally turned to look at you, his hands resting on his hips. “Look, he’s never actually liked someone before—not for real, anyway—so I don’t think he knows what to do about you. He’s never gonna fess up and tell you how he feels, so his next best option is to just avoid you entirely. But he’s been missing you, real bad. I can tell.”
“So I’m supposed to be the one to tell him?”
Osamu smirked at you. “So you actually like him?”
You paused for a moment, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, I like him.”
It was the first time you had admitted it even to yourself. A wave of relief immediately washed over you, as if you had been holding onto a secret that you no longer had to hide.
Ignoring the blush you felt creeping onto your face, you forced yourself to look at your friend.
“But isn’t that weird for you? I mean, we’re your best friends, would you really be okay with it if we started dating?”
Osamu glanced up as he thought about it, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly. “It’d be a little weird at first, but I’d get used to it. But it doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” He looked back down at you. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
“’Samu,” you wailed, “you’re gonna make me cry.”
“So, you gonna tell him or what?”
“I don’t know… what if he doesn’t feel that way about me?”
“He definitely does.”
“Well, maybe it’s just not a good idea for us to date… I mean, neither of us has ever been in a real relationship before, what if we just crash and burn?”
Osamu took in another deep breath, looking as if he was preparing himself for something unpleasant. “Look, you know I’m not a sappy guy, and I feel gross even saying this, but honestly, you and Rintarou are two of the most compatible people I’ve ever met. Even I can see how cute you guys are together. You’d be stupid not to date him.”
“Seriously, ’Samu, you’re actually gonna make me cry.”
“Whatever,” he said, turning back to make more onigiri. “Just hurry up and confess already, I miss hangin’ out with my friends.”
 --
 You waited until Atsumu and Osamu were out of the house; that way, if things didn’t go well, you could quietly slip away to collect your dignity without having to answer any questions from them first.
You stood in Suna’s doorway, heart pounding furiously in your chest as you steeled yourself for what you were about to do. He was sitting on his bed with his headphones on, looking at something on his laptop, but when you knocked on the door frame he glanced up, noticing you for the first time.  
“Hey, Rintarou,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Can we talk?”
He took his headphones off and shut his laptop, setting it to the side and scooting forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”
Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you stepped into his room and sat down next to him. He was looking at you intently, a small crease between his brows. You glanced down at your lap, fingers twisting nervously, before looking at his face again. If you weren’t honest with him now, you never would be.
“I like you,” you said bluntly, “more than just a friend.” Suna’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” you continued, really struggling now to hold his gaze. “I just… I had to tell you. And I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, that’s not what I want. Your friendship means a lot to me and I don’t want to lose that, so even if you don’t—”
“Y/n.”
Your words caught in your throat, afraid of what he was about to say.
“Can I kiss you?” His voice was impossibly soft, the question sounding so delicate as it fell past his lips.
You could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a moment. You nodded your head. “Yes.”    
Suna’s hand reached up to cup your cheek before he leaned in, agonizingly slowly, to press his mouth to yours. His lips were so soft, his touch incredibly gentle. Placing both hands on the back of his neck, you melted into him, sighing as his other arm wrapped around your waist to pull you in closer. You could feel him grinning against your lips just before he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.
“I like you, too,” he said softly.
Returning his smile, you leaned in to fit your mouth to his again, relishing the way it felt to be held by him, to have him kiss you so tenderly. It took all of your willpower to pull away from him.
“Rin, I have to go,” you whispered against his lips.
“What?” His expression was puzzled as you abruptly stood up.
“I have class in ten minutes,” you explained, making your way to the door.
“So you’re just gonna drop that on me and then dip?”
You turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning. “Yup.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but the smile was still on his face even as you left.
 --
 The first few weeks after you and Suna started dating passed by in a blur. The heartache you had felt when he kept his distance from you had been replaced by a constant feeling of joy at the knowledge that you were together now. You still got butterflies every time you saw him, your heart melting each time you pressed a kiss into his cheek and saw a blush creep onto his face.
The only complaint you had was that after three weeks, you and Suna still hadn’t slept together. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, but there was always something that prevented you from actually succeeding: he was too exhausted after finishing volleyball practice; you both had term papers to work on; someone on your floor burnt popcorn in the microwave, setting off the fire alarm. The closest you two came to doing anything was one night when you thought you had the house to yourselves. You and Suna were making out on his bed, and he was just about to take off your shirt when Atsumu suddenly burst into the room to ask if they were all out of laundry detergent. He had quickly left, smirking, after realizing what he was interrupting, but you were too embarrassed to continue after he closed the door.
At this point, it had been over a year since you last had sex, and you were starting to go a little crazy. You were pretty sure Suna knew it, too, based on the smirks he gave you when he happened to catch the way you would stare at him periodically. After the length of time it took for you two to finally admit your feelings for each other, it was incredibly frustrating that the universe seemed to be keeping you apart again.
The end of the semester rolled around, and the twins decided to throw another big party before finals week. You managed to convince Suna to not hide in his room the entire time, and to your amazement he seemed to be having a good time, laughing in the corner with some friends from the volleyball team.
You were sitting on the couch next to Osamu, slowly sipping the beer in your hand. He was talking to you about your plans for the summer, but you couldn’t stop your attention from drifting over to your boyfriend every once in a while, grinning at him each time you happened to catch his eye.
“Our parents are renting that beach house for two weeks in July, you wanna come with us again?” Osamu asked, drawing your gaze back to his face.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” you said, a little distracted.
“Your boyfriend can come, too, of course,” he smirked.
“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to hide your blushing face by downing the rest of your drink.
“Bet you’re gonna miss him, yeah? Three months is a long time to be apart from your lover.”
“I swear to god, ’Samu, if you don’t shut the fuck up…” you grumbled, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at your friend’s teasing.
Osamu’s attention was stolen then by someone asking him to go do shots, so you got up and walked to the kitchen by yourself to throw out your empty beer bottle. After you tossed it in the bin, you felt warm hands encircle your waist and a familiar voice whispered into your ear.
“It’s getting kinda crowded down here, you wanna go upstairs?” Suna’s warm breath tickled your ear, making you shiver in his arms. Turning around to face him, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him by the hand and leading the way to the stairs.
Closing his bedroom door muffled the sounds of the party, and you were able to breathe easier now that you were alone with him. Suna scrolled through his phone briefly before finding the playlist he was searching for, setting his phone down once the music started playing.
“Hey,” you said, grinning as you recognized the song, “this is the same playlist that you put on the night we met.”
He took a few steps towards you, arms snaking around your waist to pull you in close. “I know,” he said simply before leaning down to kiss you. You allowed him to deepen it, lips parting for his tongue, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt.
Without breaking away, Suna guided you to his bed, gently laying you down and crawling on top of you, his knee coming up to press between your legs. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him grin against you. Breathing hard, you pulled his shirt over his head, leaning back so that you could look at him. You had known he was fit from all the times your body had been pressed against his, but seeing his muscular form with your own eyes was different. You squirmed under him, feeling your arousal growing between your thighs.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Y/n,” he whispered, leaning down to press kisses into your neck.
“I know,” you murmured.
“Yeah?” He pulled your shirt off of you, warm hands burning into your skin. “Do you know what I’m gonna do next?” he teased in a low voice, mouth moving down over your collarbones as his hands came up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples through your bra.
“Rin,” you whined when he pulled down the fabric to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, his other hand coming to rest between your thighs, groaning against your skin when he felt the wetness seeping through your shorts.
“Yeah, baby?” He was kissing a line down your stomach, goosebumps rising in his wake. He tugged off your shorts and panties together as you sat up to unhook your bra, tossing it onto the floor without taking your eyes off his face. Your hands immediately moved to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning them as you planted sloppy kisses across his chest. He wriggled out of them and threw them to the side, before wrapping a hand around each of your legs and spreading them apart. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, lips gliding over the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me, baby. I know how badly you want this.”
You whimpered, fingers running through his hair and gripping tightly. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, making you shiver again. A loud moan escaped you when he finally pressed his tongue against your pussy, running slowly over your folds and circling around your clit before moving back down. He repeated the motion, making your breath come out in short pants as your fingers tangled themselves further in his hair.
“God, you taste so sweet,” he moaned against you. His hands pressed down on your hipbones, pinning you in place as you started trembling around him, small whimpers leaving your mouth the closer you came to your release. You drew your legs up, the heel of one of your feet resting on his back as your spine arched, pressing into his mouth.
“Fuck, Rin, I’m so close,” you gasped out. He hummed, hands reaching up to trace his fingertips along your sides. You started moving your hips and he stilled, holding his tongue out for you to grind against. Within seconds you were cumming, legs shaking and nails digging almost painfully into his scalp. He kept his mouth open to allow you to ride out your high, gaze trained on your face.
“You’re so cute, baby,” he murmured, moving to plant a row of kisses up your throat and over your jaw. “So fucking cute.” His lips fitted against yours as he grinded into you, the friction against your clit making you gasp.
“Rin,” you whispered, pulling away to look in his eyes, “lie down.”
He rolled off of you, reaching out with both hands to pull you on top of him. You kissed him once, teasingly, before sitting up and gazing down at him. With one finger, you traced a line from his throat down over his chest and stomach, coming to rest where the skin dipped down between his hipbones, smiling to yourself at the way he shivered from your touch. Hooking your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, you gently tugged them off of him, watching the way his thick cock sprang out to slap against his abs. Heart pounding excitedly, you dragged your nails over the top of his thigh, pleased when his muscles tensed beneath you.
“Don’t tease me, baby,” he groaned, fingers digging into your arm. “I’ve had to wait so long for this.”
You would have been content to make him wait even longer, wanting to hear him begging you to touch him, but the pleading look in his eyes softened your resolve. “I know,” you purred, leaning down to run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, grinning to yourself when you heard his sharp inhale. You swirled your tongue around the tip, letting your spit run down his length, before wrapping your lips around his cock.
Soft moans and pants reached your ears as you slowly took all of him into your mouth. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat you paused, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from the stretch of your jaw. You slid your tongue along his cock as you hummed lightly, eliciting a loud groan from him. Your hand came to grip his cock as you started bobbing your head up and down, moving in tandem with your mouth. Suna tilted his head to watch you, his chest rising and falling heavily. Keeping your eyes on his face, your mouth left his cock with a wet pop and moved down to suck on his balls, your hand continuing to jerk him off.
“F-fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow. His fingers entwined themselves in your hair, gripping firmly, but you had reached the limit of your patience. You crawled back on top of him, thighs planted on either side of his hips, and used your hand to drag his cock along the folds of your cunt.
“I wanna feel you, Rin,” you said breathlessly as his hands gripped your hips. “Wanna feel you inside me.”
Pressing his tip into you, you slowly sank down onto him, loving the way his mouth fell open as you took him completely inside you. The stretch made you gasp, head falling forward to rest against the crook of his neck. You kissed the skin just below his ear as you started grinding your hips against him, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. The sensation on your clit made you moan into his skin.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered.
“Feels good,” you whimpered, your pace quickening. “S-so good.”
“Oh fuck, you’re so tight…”
The knot in your stomach was rapidly tightening. A few more motions were all it took for you to be cumming again; you pressed your lips against Suna’s, tongue reaching into his mouth as your orgasm washed over you.
When your hips stilled, he lifted you off of him and flipped you over onto your back, nipping at the skin of your neck as he repositioned himself between your legs. With a groan, he sank into you again, hips snapping against you urgently. Your body already felt worn out, but the sensation of him fucking you so deeply had you clawing at his back, desperately trying to pull him closer to you. He lifted your trembling legs onto his shoulders, the new angle of his cock thrusting into you making you cry out.
“Is that your spot, baby?” he crooned, repeatedly hitting the place that made your breath catch in your throat.
“Yes, yes, yes, right there, Rin, p-please don’t stop!” you babbled. One of your hands reached out to grab his and bring it to your neck, eyes pleading with him.
His fingers tightened around your throat. “Fuck, you look so cute taking my cock like that. You gonna cum again, pretty girl? Gonna cum all over my cock for me?”
His grip on your throat was making you lightheaded, the friction against your clit sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body. The spot his cock was hitting inside your pussy had you hurtling towards the edge again, eyes rolling back as you incoherently begged him not to stop.
“Rin, I-I’m cumming—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you practically sobbed as your pussy clenched around him again. He released his hold on your throat, moving his hand up to lift your jaw and kiss you deeply, relishing when you moaned into his mouth. Your lips parted and he rested his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, continuing to pound into you as you came. His breath stuttered as his thrusts grew more erratic, his face flushed as his cock throbbed inside you, hot cum filling your cunt.
“Fuck, Y/n,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, slower than before. He pulled out and laid down beside you, breathing hard. You reached up to brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, fingers running over his cheekbones.
“Why did we wait so long to do this,” you asked, making him laugh.
“We’re so fucking stupid,” he said with a grin.
You exhaled happily, moving closer to him and nestling your head against his chest. His arm reached out to wrap around you and press his palm into your spine to pull you closer. He was warm, but your uncovered body shivered against the chill in the air, goosebumps rising along your skin.
“Here, cutie,” he said, shifting so that he could pull the comforter over you. “Comfy?”
“Hmm,” you hummed, closing your eyes and pressing a kiss into his collarbone.
With Rin’s arm around you and his steady heartbeat in your ear, you fell asleep almost instantly, feeling more content than you had in a long time.
 --
 You woke up before Suna. He had moved in his sleep, now lying on his back with one arm outstretched underneath your head. You watched him for a moment, smiling at the calm expression on his face, before climbing out of bed slowly, careful not to disturb him. Putting on your panties and one of Suna’s oversized t-shirts, you slipped out the door to walk to the bathroom down the hall.
Osamu and Atsumu’s doors were still closed, a fact that you were grateful for when you reached the bathroom and saw your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, your neck littered with little love bites, damning indicators of what you had been up to the night before. Splashing your face with water, you tried to scrub off the smeared remnants of yesterday’s makeup. Satisfied when you no longer looked like you spent the night in a club, you crept back into your boyfriend’s room.
“Hey,” Suna mumbled when you stepped back through the doorway, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes with the other hand.
“Hey.” You smiled at him as you shut the door.
“Take those clothes off and come back to bed.”
You giggled, shrugging out of your clothes and stepping towards his outstretched arms. He pulled you into a tight embrace, peppering your face with kisses. He settled you down on your side next to him, pulling your thigh up to rest on his hip.
“Rin!” you squealed when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.
“I just wanna be inside you, baby,” he murmured. His touch had already made you wet, allowing his cock to slide into you easily. You sighed as his hips pressed up against yours.
His lips met with yours, his kiss achingly sweet. “I don’t ever want you to leave this bed,” he breathed out. You smiled against his lips, fingers running through his soft hair. He shifted his hips then, and the sensation was too much for you.
“O-oh,” you whimpered as your pussy tightened around him.
“Are you cumming?” he asked, the corner of his lips quirking up into a grin.
“Sh-shut up.”
He didn’t say anything else, simply tightening his arms around you and kissing you again. The two of you lay like that for a while, slipping into a peaceful state of half-sleep, until the sound of a distant door being flung open pulled you back.
“Fuck,” Suna mumbled under his breath. Not a second later, a loud knock sounded from the other side of his door.
“Sunariiiiin,” Atsumu’s voiced whined from the hallway. “Are you guys up yet?”
“Is that door locked?” Suna whispered to you. Commending yourself for your earlier foresight, you nodded. “Good.”
“Suna! Y/n!” He pounded on the door. “I know you guys can hear me, come on!”
“I gotta get my own place,” Suna grumbled, his eyes still closed. You giggled, and when the knocking on the door stopped you snuggled in closer to him, ready to go back to sleep.
Until your phone started ringing.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, reaching out to grab it from the nightstand. “What do you want, Atsumu?”
“Aha! I knew you were awake!” He sounded very pleased with himself for succeeding in getting you to talk to him. “Can you make me pancakes?”
There was a pause as his question sank in. Holding your phone to your head and staring at Suna, you pulled away from him and sat up, eliciting a low groan from him. “You want me to make you pancakes?” you repeated in an incredulous voice. Suna cracked open his eyes, his face scrunching up as he heard Atsumu’s request.
“Yeah!”
“Get Osamu to do it.”
“He doesn’t make them as good as you!”
You could practically hear him pouting on the other end of the line. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you heaved a sigh. “Give me a minute.”
“Thankyouthankyouthanky—” You ended the call before he finished. Climbing out of bed, you pulled on your clothes again.
“Are you actually gonna do it?” Suna asked.
“He’s just gonna keep harassing us until I do it anyway,” you said. “Besides, it’s almost ten o’clock, we might as well get up.”
Suna rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow, groaning loudly. Grinning, you tossed a clean pair of boxers and a shirt at him.
Atsumu looked way too happy when you finally appeared downstairs. He and Osamu were sitting at the kitchen counter together; they nudged a steaming mug towards you when you walked in.
“We made you coffee,” he said, his grin wide across his face.
“Uh huh,” you grumbled.
“Where’s mine?” Suna asked as he trailed in behind you.
“Make your own, dick,” Osamu told him, smirking as he sipped his own drink.
Suna rolled his eyes, going to pour himself a cup from the coffeemaker.
Trying to hide your laughter from him, you gathered up the ingredients and set to work. When all the pancakes were done cooking you passed half of them across the counter to the twins.
“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, closing his eyes as he took a bite. “So good.”
“I gotta teach you how to make these yourself, ’Tsumu,” you said, taking a bite of your own breakfast.
“Yeah, that way you clowns can let us sleep in for once,” Suna added.
“Don’t pretend, Y/n,” Atsumu said, “you know you love seeing my cute little face first thing in the morning.”
“I prefer seeing ’Samu’s, actually,” you teased. Osamu stuck his tongue out at his twin, laughing at his crumpled expression.
When you all finished eating, Atsumu and Osamu jumped up to wash the dishes for you. Holding your mug of coffee with both hands, you leaned into Suna’s side.
Looking over his shoulder at you two, Osamu grinned. “So, how was your night?”
“Fine,” you said in a casual tone.
“And that’s all you’re gonna get out of us,” Suna finished.
Osamu rolled his eyes, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “As if I’d want any details.”
“My night was great, thanks for asking,” Atsumu chimed in.
“Yeah? Was that before or after you puked in the backyard?”
“’Samu!”
You couldn’t help the relaxed smile that found its way onto your face, happy to get to listen to them teasing each other like always. With one hand resting on the counter, Suna’s other reached around your waist to tug you closer, fitting your body against his. Standing there laughing with your friends, with his arm around you, felt like the most natural thing in the world.
--
➣epilogue
--
➣masterlist
391 notes · View notes
Text
Springing Forward (Helmut Zemo x Reader)
Request: hey there cathy! i’m a new follower and i was wondering if i might request a zemo x reader where it’s maybe pre ultron and reader’s family own a flower shop in sokovia and somehow through that they meet? idk i know it’s super random but i’ve got spring fever 😂 (by @msmarvelsmain), [Marvel-Masterlist]
Summary: Your family owned a little flower shop. You assisted every now & then. One day, your parents had departed for a while, a man entered the store & changed your life forever.
Words: 3,255
Warnings: fluff, soft!Zemo, it is so sweet, I promise, pretty sure I didn't use any pronouns :), no TFATWS spoilers (you’re welcome), (Y/F/F) = your favorite flowers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
Spring was your favorite season of the year. Flowers started blossoming. Nature turned colorful again. Lush hues decorated the outsides. Your family owned a petite shop in the central of downtown in Sokovia. The store was your whole pride & joy. The façade was stacked with uneven, light grey cobblestones. The sign on top of the glass door was illuminated with a warm & congenial light. While you did not have that many guests, your regular customers supported you continuously. Helping out your parents had never bothered you. It was a family business. Your assistance was appreciated & the local citizens enjoyed whenever you served them.
Plants & flowers were your hobby. Somehow, they grew when you tended to them. You managed to flourish almost dead ones. That was one of your skills. Your handling with the people who visited your shop left a good impression. The earnings were not a fortune but you made do. The smiles of your pleased customers were enough to balance that out. Not even once had you been bad-tempered. If something bothered you, then you suppressed that negativity for the sake of your reputation. After all, it never had anything to do with the shop itself.
The mornings were your favorites. When the rest of the town was still fast asleep & the birds slowly awakened with rhythmical chirps. The slight breeze that touched your skin tenderly. The goosebumps erupting where your clothes did not cover you. Yet, you abandoned the thought of pulling over a jacket. As the hours ticked by, the sun would amplify, leaving you content with your tenuous t-shirt. Your parents had left town for relaxation. The shop would be solely yours for the upcoming days. Your little apartment was not far away from your workplace. The short walks back & forth were forever welcomed. During your lunch break, if your job & the weather allowed you that, you wandered through the narrow backstreets. Every corner was familiar but the small details that frequently transformed always fascinated you anew.
Years ago, you loathed leaving the country you were born in to start a new life here in Sokovia. Your parents were incomprehensibly overstrained with your whim that seemed to worsen daily. Friends were abandoned in the process of moving. The beginning in a foreign area was strenuous. Not only did it take a toll on you but on your parents as well. The loan enabled your family’s dream of owning their own shop. Independence was an indescribable feeling. Ever since, your fondness of this place had been increasing steadily. And while you would not exactly say that you had friends here, you definitely made a few acquaintances. Friendships would follow sooner or later. Besides, your work consumed almost all of your time. You lived to work & you worked to live. It was as simple as that. Your lifestyle functioned like that. It was exhausting, sometimes excessive, but you handled it just fine. Still, every now & then, you found yourself craving something. What that particular something was had yet to be discovered.
The delightful ringing of the bell whenever someone entered your shop reached your ears. It was early in the morning. Usually, the first costumers rolled in closer to lunch time. Not that you were complaining. Your body spun around, your apron getting stuck on an infinitesimal bump standing out of your oak wooden counter. Silent curses left your lips, too quiet for the stranger to hear. The struggles were noticeable & a presence approached you. You had yet to glance at the person but your delicate hands were busy with fiddling the fabric.
“May I?” a soft, accented voice spoke up & startled you slightly. Your eyes flickered up & locked with warm, chocolate brown ones. For a few moments, time stopped. Your heartbeat sped up. Something about this simple interaction let sparks burst. And when his lips turned into a gentle smile, you were gone for. Never before had something similar occurred. Especially not that quickly. It was obvious that you were staring a little too intensively. But his eyes did not leave yours, lingering just for a fraction longer. He had asked you a question. As an owner, you completely failed your task. You neither welcomed him in nor did you engage in a conversation. Coughing to hide the embarrassment, you averted your gaze & began.
“Welcome. Um, I’d really appreciate your help, thank you.” your voice wavered but it did not crack. His hands, covered by leather gloves, stretched out & he initiated the process of freeing you. The thick material that hid his fingers was offbeat. Average people tended to avoid gloves during this season. It was warm enough without them. Then again, this stranger did not strike you as average. This brief meeting was proof enough.
“There you go.” he commented after successfully liberating you. “As good as new.” he radiated a feeling that made you believe he was a well-spoken man. You were unsure how exactly you ended up with that conclusion.
“Thank you.” both of your hands reached to the hem of your apron, glancing down at it, checking for possible damages. But, as he alleged, it was perfectly fine. Another moment of silence went by, then you slowly returned to reality. You occupied your according place behind the counter. Back straightened & regained composure. “Apologies for my unprofessional behavior. I will ensure you a discount for your purchase. Right…what did you need?” your rambling was mortifying. Hiding your emotions was not necessarily one of your skilled characteristics.
“Please, do not bother with special treatments.” one of his hands raised in front of his chest, signaling that he was being serious. It did not change that, deep down, you felt poorly. “I was actually looking for…” a chuckle interrupted his speech. “I am uncultured regarding this area, truthfully. If you offer me your assistance now then the two of us are even.” the following wink made you all giddy. What was it about him?
“Okay, well…” your previous painstakingness was pushed down. “What is the occasion?” it was always surprising to gain new customers. His accent betrayed him a little. And what a sweet betrayal it was.
“A decisive meeting with a higher up. An efficient first impression would be convenient.” he enlightened you, choosing his words carefully. Well-spoken he was but that was manifested from the very beginning.
“Any preferred colors, types?” one of your eyebrows perked up. Moving your body around the counter & in the middle of the modest shop, you reacted unwillingly after brushing past his frame. Your shoulder barely grazing but enough to trigger uneven breaths.
“How does a common purchase for such an event look like?” you peered over your shoulder, a bit of amusement written over your features. While he appeared like a literate man, ten times wiser than you, this was a field you surpassed with ease. A quick glimpse on your forearm, where a barely functioning watch swathed your wrist caressingly, confirmed your previous assumption. There was still a load of time left until the shop’s actual occupation. You could bestow him your aggregate attention. The unnamed stranger absorbed your every word of your explanation. Your eyes sparkled with a newly witnessed enthusiasm. The fact that he did not heckle your talk during the entirety of your tour through the shop brought you desired satisfaction. He was the first person to display genuine interest in your employment.
“God, please excuse me trailing off. I did not intend to bore you.” all of a sudden, your energetic self switched to an insecure one.
“I can assure you that you did not bore me. Not for one second.” his affirming smile calmed your incertitude. Together, the two of you picked up various individual flowers. A compiled bouquet would portray him in the best light. Your hands moved on their own. You could still hold a conversation with the man on the other end of the wooden table. It separated the back of the shop from the front, main area. His fascination for you expanded by every further move you performed. Lastly, you wrapped the ends of the stems with a fine, almost sheer paper. To secure everything & hold it in place, you braided a ribbon that matched the color of the textile.
“All done.” you showcased the finished product to him, a small, gratified smile adorning your face. “What do you think?” the question was almost shy, it needed reassurance. Which made him ponder why you were so doubtful of yourself & your abilities. To him, you prepared the most gorgeous bouquet he had ever caught a sight of.
“Plainly astonishing.” his praise warmed you from deep within. “You really do have an unbelievable talent.” you thanked him quietly, eyes flickering down to avoid his intense stare. By no means was it displeasing or inadvertent. It was sweet & thoughtful. You wanted to extend his stay, fearing that this would be a one-time interaction. But you could not remain on this high you were currently experiencing. The sound of the entrance bell fetched you back to the present. Another customer that needed attendance. Your togetherness approached an undesirable end. Controlled fingers punched a well-rehearsed pattern into the cash register. The blue numbers flashed for the man in the coat to see. Gloves & a fur-coat during spring? He was the only living soul you had ever met that made it work.
A wallet was pulled out of his pocket. Fine fingers retrieved the money. A beat went by. Two. Almost like he wanted to savor the little time you two had left. But your duties called. He would not use up any more of your duration. Maybe he had already overstepped & his appearance was no longer welcomed or appropriate. The notes were handed over. Your movements like a slow motion scene in your favorite movie. The scenery grasping your every bit of attentiveness. It was something you wanted to remember. To think back & hope to perceive that same feeling you experienced during the first time. You reached for it. The moment his clothed hand touched your smooth skin stilled the world once again. The gentle brush of his thumb over the back of your hand could have been missed if it was not for your body to be this alerted.
“Thank you for your exceedingly helpful guidance, …?” his eyes looked up at you sheepishly. You knew what he was intending. It was a silent question for your name. And you were more than eager to comply.
“(Y/N).” it was short, adequate. His smirk held a deeper meaning. What it was exactly, you could not identify.
“Why, thank you, (Y/N).” his emphasis was on your name. The way it rolled from his tongue was mesmerizing. You found yourself craving to hear that sound constantly. But you were not even sure if it was naïve to hope for his return. He would exit any second. Leaving behind a pit only he could fill. Your train of thought converted into utter despair. He was your customer. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“You never told me your name.” you called out when he was almost out of the door. One last time, he glanced over his shoulder. The fur tickling his chin a bit. One last time, you studied the way his lips lifted. One last time, you believed.
“Helmut.” he replied. “It was nice meeting you.” his hand pushed the door open. His body moved through the doorway. As fast as he entered your life, he left just as quickly.
“You too.” you whispered but he was no longer here to listen to your words. Your face fell, the previous spark in your eyes completely gone. The person in front of you waited until you paid all of your attention to them. It took a lot of effort but you managed in the end. The only difference was that they were not him. Nobody would ever be him again. But he vanished. Like dust in the wind, blowing away his remaining scent that had filled your nostrils.
Was it possible to crave a person you barely knew? Your subconscious sprinkled salt in your wound. Brains could be ridiculous. Nonsense. The teasing of your dreams, in the dark of the calm night, was echoing. Ricocheting off the walls that kept your emotions buried inside. Similar to being the main character in a horror film, desperately looking for a way out but being trapped no matter what. Why were you reacting like that? Why did Helmut waltz into your shop without any restrictions, turning your entire life, your entire world, upside down? He was one mysterious man. Uncommon, remarkable. Someone who swept you off your feet by simply being. One charming smile & you were gone for. The first words he directed to you & he gained you wholly. The worst part of it all was that he had no idea what he did to you. He had no idea that your thoughts were solely revolving around him ever since his entrance to the store. His entrance to your heart. What was happening to you? You had to move on, that much was clear. Truth was, you abominated that thought. Your focus had to shift. Back to your work, back to your task.
The following day started off with a bad mood. Certainly, the upcoming hours would be draining. You could not allow the shop’s closure. Not even for a day. Your family’s existence depended on it. Everything was the same. Chirping birds, a cool breeze, a short walk. The peacefulness before customers visited. Yet, everything was not the same at all. Because there was this nagging feeling inside of you & you knew you could not get rid of it. The ringing sound caught you off guard. It was unusual. Only once had someone entered this early in the mornings. And this one time was yesterday. Your shock was visible. Helmut’s presence was unexpected but definitely not unsought.
“Helmut?” your voice was an octave higher. The excitement emitting from you.
“Good morning, (Y/N).” he strutted closer to you. The same gloves, the same coat. The same offbeat & arcane man.
“What brings you here today?” your head tilted, trying to find a possible explanation for his return. “Wait. Was the bouquet improper?” immediately, thousands of dark, negative thoughts were rushing through you. You did your very best with the flower’s arrangement. Never before had you spent this much time & effort.
“No, not at all.” one of his hands raised & rested on your shoulder, squeezing the tiniest bit. You had to take a deep breath in order to stay calm. As calm as it was possible with him around. “The exact opposite. Which is why I am here again. Could you assist me once more?”
“Of course. What were you envisioning? Who are the flowers for?” your elbows propped onto the countertop, gazing lovingly into his orange shining brown eyes.
“I meant to ask for your favorites. You strike me as one with fantastic taste.” Helmut certainly had a way with words. No matter what he said, you found yourself captivated by him. The topic could be dreary but he made it sound fascinating.
“My favorites? It’s tough to choose one when there are so many stunning options.” you quieted down for a few seconds to really contemplate your answer. It was flattering that he asked for your opinion. “If you make me pick then I’d say…hmm, probably (Y/F/F).”
“Perfect. I would like to purchase a bouquet then.” right away, you got to work. Helmut watched your skilled hands. His enthusiasm only died down when he saw the frown forming on your face. “What is it?”
“Huh?” you were in your thoughts. His question was almost missed by you.
“That frown. Where is it coming from?” only Helmut could be so straight forward about such a small detail he had noticed. Would you tell him the truth? You should not. He did not need to know that your mood turned sour because he bought more flowers. This time, he did not let you know about the purpose of them. Another dinner with a higher up? Highly unlikely. But not entirely impossible. You assumed he would gift them to a woman. Hence why you sidestepped his question masterly.
“I believe it happens when I’m focused on my task.” you hoped your smile was reassuring but Helmut saw right through you. In the end, he did not comment on it. There was a building tension between you two. This time around, there were no lingering touches. He left the shop once again & it was clear that this was it. Helmut would not come back again. And maybe it was for the better. Your heart was too fragile to be crushed by his bare hands. It was not fair to blame basically a stranger. He had a life you had no insight on. But the aching could not be ignored.
Just as you wanted to lock the door to your shop for your lunch break, a voice reached your ears, followed by hurried footsteps. Turning around to look for the cause of it, you were shocked for a second time today. It was Helmut. The same bouquet he had purchased earlier clasped in one of his hands. The other one balanced two cups of coffee. As much as you wanted to withhold your smile, it was inevitable to repress.
“(Y/N)!” he was slightly out of breath. “I expected you were gone already.”
“Good that your expectation was wrong.” the warmth that filled your body was endearing.
“Here.” he handed you the flowers & your eyebrows furrowed. “For you.” he explained further when you made no move to reach for them.
“Why?” you inquired but grabbed the bouquet from him anyway. His posture relaxed & the grip on the cups was more secure.
“May I invite you on a walk through the town?” he suggested shyly. “I brought you coffee. I do hope it is after your liking?” the last part was a question. A sign that he doubted himself the slightest.
“I’m sure it’ll be delightful.” you eased his mind immediately. The cup was placed in your other hand. “Could you wait here for a minute? I should put them in a vase.” he motioned for you to go ahead. Your heart was doing backflips. It all fell into place now. You pieced everything together. He asked for your favorite flowers earlier today because he intended to give them to you. His plan was to spend your lunch break together. Helmut really went out of his way for you. His efforts were mellow. Returning outside once again, he patiently stood in the same spot. The softness of his features were rare on a man like him. You had met people similar to him but he was different. Helmut was that type of many who bought you flowers & made time to spend more with you.
You knew the town by heart. So did Helmut. But exploring the beautiful spots together felt like you were espying every corner, every building, for the very first time. Conversation flowed easily. Laughter was shared, loving glances were exchanged. He gave you a feeling of belonging. Like you were supposed to be right here from the very beginning. It felt right. With a man like him on your side, your life quality would finally improve. Helmut would be the one to quench your cravings. And you would not want it any other way.
Published (05/04/2021) by Cathy
✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨
Tags: @takacsgram, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @bibliophilewednesday, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @sebastian-stan-d-on-my-throat, @thewinterrbucky, @loveinthemadness, @princess-yuna (thanks for your support <3)
180 notes · View notes
collisiondiscourse · 3 years
Text
on the wonder duo (part 1)
(BNHA Analysis Post Ahead! This isn’t explicitly romantic, but it is an analysis of the relationship between the two most popular characters in BNHA--Katsuki Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya. Split into two posts because I realized that this was gonna be long as HELL)
yall ever think about the fact that the wonder duo is perfectly set up in so that bakugou and deku together are the better version of all might?
bc like. ive been thinking.
everyone knows the win to save and save to win parallel. How they are supposedly two halves of a whole perfect hero (which, previously, was defined as all might)
but ever since bakugou and deku started working as one—growing together to win AND save and continuously reminding each other that they shouldnt try to do things alone, ive realized that its BECAUSE theres two of them that they surpass all might. its not a case of deku and bakugou both being 50% of an ideal hero, but rather i think that they are 100% of what all might SHOULD HAVE BEEN from the very beginning.
as early as the AM v AFO battle in kamino, we see the effects of all mights flawed existence. the fact that he, the greatest and supposedly infallible symbol of peace, was destroyed—society had begun to collapse. there was suddenly no pillar to hold people together and the impacts were so severe that even in the latest chapters of mha it keeps on getting worse. the truth is, all mights biggest mistake was the burden he placed on his own shoulders
with bakugou and deku... its different.
its different for them because down to their attributions, they seem like two halves of a whole person.
i think that the wonder duo are going to surpass all might because of the fact that they work together.
@bakugoukatsuki-rising @svpercraigus @tybee​ @isaustraliaathing​
(batshit crazy and conspiratorial essay under the cut !)
1. Complementary Colors
I’d like to first preface literally everything I say by the fact that I am not an expert analyzer or literary major in any way. I am literally just some random fan on the internet who has wayyy too much time and looks wayyy too deep into things, but here we go!
A common thing we see when we talk about bakugou and deku is the way they are... sort of an inverse of one another.
Down to the design of their features and the way they move, Deku is the obviously softer of the two. There’s an intentional contrast between the two of them, in the way that Deku’s drawn with round shapes and curvy hair and the way Bakugou is literally all spikes and half-mast eyes and rough muscles. Bakugou’s movements too are languid and showy, with the way he leans when he walks and splays his legs and kicks open doors. Katsuki, in a casual sense, is loud and dramatic. 
Deku on the other hand s finicky. He jitters when he walks and he’s often fidgeting and mumbling. Comparatively, the aura he radiates is energetic and frenzied, even self-conscious to a point unlike Bakugou’s calm and confident movements.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the point is, there’s a clear difference in how either of them are designed and what exactly they are supposed to represent. They utterly complement each other down to the way they behave and even their main colors (red-orange and blue-green) being literal complementary colors.
Now, moving to my more ungrounded points, this is quite a bit of a stretch so I’ll try as much as possible to make sense of these with hyperlinked sources because. yeah.
Down to their names, I think Deku and Bakugou both symbolize something deeper. I think that the way Hori expresses characters and what they’re meant to do is something that we have to pay close attention to when we talk about the Wonder Duo’s rise to success.
Izuku Midoriya (緑谷 出久), as some of us may know, does have an interesting meaning when broken up. According to a lovely fan translation of his name, ‘Izuku’--while not an actual name used commonly in real life--means to ‘Come out’ or ‘Long time’. ‘Midoriya’ on the other hand means (Midori) ‘Green’ and (ya) ‘valley’. The translator further pointed out that his first name ‘Izuku’ could be a reference to him being the first legendary hero to come out of the long-running All Might Era. (or, if you’ve been reading @/bakugoukatsuki-rising’s posts, the first significant anime protag in a long while to come out as queer, ppfft)
but that isn’t my focus right now.
We know that Hori LOVES telling stories with names, and more often than not in the BNHA universe, names alone tell us a lot of things about the characters. When referring to Izuku’s last name, Midoriya, it’s important I think to step back and realize that hey, maybe there’s something more to Green Valley than just the fact that his motif is all green.
After searching for a lil on the specifics of green valley, I’ve found out that across many cultures, the colour green and valleys in general tend to represent life. From dream analysts, to Christianity, and even old Taoist teachings, valleys are seen as areas of fertility and escape. They are seen as safe havens and often escapes for people to come to after running away from bad circumstances.
(Sound familiar?)
Deku, in essence represents life and peace. He represents being the “salvation” that the world in BNHA needed. To me, it sounds like Horikoshi is trying to say that he is the long-awaited hero in the sense. The one that people can feel will create a society that feels safe for everyone after years of All Might just saving people from themselves as a band-aid solution.
On the other hand, we have Katsuki Bakugou (爆豪 勝己), who’s name we commonly know means (Katsuki) Winner and (Bakugou) Explosion Master. He is essentially, the champion. The power. His name means success and power and all the things that make up winning.
When putting them side by side, it then becomes increasingly... interesting to me how their names almost perfectly slot into All Might’s save to win and win to save mantra, and how they are both quintessential parts to what made All Might as a hero.
2. Hero Too!
Now, I’m not even gonna really TOUCH much of what happens in canon. If you want me to do a step by step breakdown of their arcs in regards to the plot of manga and anime, feel free to send me a gratuitous ko-fi tip so I can pay for the headache I get after trying to organize my thoughts into word vomit.
What I WILL talk about on the other hand, is the subtle shift both of them slowly have in regards to how they look. Bakugou and Deku, while growing up, seem to have MANY many parallels--but before I elaborate on all of that, I wanna talk about something else.
Detour: Deku’s Red Shoes 
We all know the iconic symbol being Deku’s red shoes. For all his life, save for some outfits like his hero one, we see Deku more often than not wearing his signature red sneakers which have become a running joke in fandom.
But the funny thing is, in Japan, red shoes seem to have an interesting connotation.
In 1922, a popular Japanese nursery rhyme was written, called “Red Shoes”. The interesting part to me about this song was the symbolism that, in my tiny pea-sized brain, I could connect to the story of BNHA.
The story goes that there was a little girl with red shoes named ‘Kimi’. She was from Shizuoka prefecture (which, if you didn’t know, is most likely where Musutafu supposedly is) and was raised by a single mother. When she was young, her mother had to entrust her with a foreigner under the impression that they would give her a better life in America. The stranger is a man named Charles Hewitt (who was described to have blue eyes) and supposedly took her away. 
The singer of the song (supposedly the mother, but some argue it was written from the perspective of a childhood friend) believes that Kimi is happy and living a better life away from them, when the reality of the situation was much worse. The young girl with red shoes in actuality had Tuberculosis, and thus the foreigner whom she was entrusted to had left her to fend for herself and eventually left her to go to America while she died alone and orphaned.
“When I see red shoes, I think of her.”
A very interesting story with very interesting implications indeed.
-
Anyway, moving on to the more... “nuanced” and connected parts of this section, I have every reason to believe that Bakugou and Deku were simply MEANT to be working together down to how they dress. Now, I’d like to discuss their hero costumes.
At the start of their series, using these godawful pics for reference, it’s clear to see that neither of them seem alike in any way--reflecting the dissonance in their relationship at that point in canon.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ough. deku why. (yes we know why its because you love your mom you stupid little bunny <3)
Anyway, we see an immediate gap in how the two of them are. Deku’s first costume is one that reflects how he treated his dream of being a hero. He was still in that childlike idolization phase, the one where his dreams and aspirations were hinged on pure feelings and inspiration from All Might. Katsuki on the other hand was a lot more tactical--professional to an extent. The gap between their respective development with their quirks is something that is clearly felt in every fashion decision they’d made.
(Notice how Deku’s green is a lot brighter and less like the green accents Katsuki has all over his costume.)
As time progressed however... their costumes changed. The colors, the silhouettes, the practical functions, most things.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Deku’s Gamma Costume and Bakugou’s Winter Costume used respectively)
we begin to notice a few similarities.
As the show goes on and we see more evolutions of their costumes, it almost seems like they begin to look like a matching pair. Deku’s green grows darker and almost teal in nature, while Bakugou’s orange is veering towards red territory. This is important to note because red-orange and blue-green as I said earlier were complementary colors as compared to simply orange and green. The minute shift is something I really wasn’t quite sure was intentional, but something I find interesting to pick up nonetheless as the colors they used to accent their costumes begin to match up.
Secondly, I think and important thing to note is silhouettes. The way that both Bakugou and Deku’s costumes are designed follow a lot of parallels that typically we don’t see with the rest of 1-A. For one, they both have a combination of tight long-sleeved tops with a bulkier set of bottoms. They also share the use of utility belts and metal pieces typically worn around their necks. Deku has his bunny-eared hood that mimics All Might’s hair, while Bakugou has his orange and black explosion ear-pieces that mimic his own quirk.
Tumblr media
i don’t think any other people in class 1-A match each other as subtly yet strongly as these two. Uraraka and Deku and Bakugou and Kirishima do come close however.
“But Codi, you fucking knob!” I hear you plea. “This is such a reach and tells us practically NOTHING!” And yes, I’m inclined to agree with you! You’d be sort of right in the idea that this is a reach. Maybe I am looking too much into this, and maybe it really isn’t that deep--but I do think that them subconsciously matching outfits means something quite brilliant.
In the way that their costumes are designed, each aspect of either outfits have a very logical explanation. The changes were strategic and made with their fighting styles vividly in mind, so what that tells me is that BECAUSE these costumes are so complementary or similar in nature (Bakugou’s reinforcing his arms while Deku reinforces his legs), these two are implicitly showing the audience that their combat styles are complementary as well. 
The evolution of their design choices and similarities tell us that even unknowingly, their minds line up in strategy on the battlefield--a clear exhibit for why they would be INCREDIBLY POWERFUL as a Hero Duo to begin with.
When I look at their hero costumes side by side, I see a mirror. I see the way that these two are reflections of each other and are strong where the other isn’t. The point I see in BNHA repeatedly is that EVERYONE HAS A WEAKNESS. Nothing is infallible, regardless of how hard you train or how powerful your quirk is. Everyone will always have a weakness, but the significant difference I see when fandom discusses the future of Pro-Hero Society is that the new generation is finally raising itself to be RELIANT on each other. 
Observing their fighting styles and the simple use of their quirks, its obvious that they are indeed two parts of a whole hero. Bakugou, who’s quirk emphasized his arms and hands and the power that comes from it, while Deku who’s quirk now emphasizes his legs and lower body and the way he’s always running to save people.
IN CONCLUSION:
As they become heroes, it is easy to assume that if nothing else, Bakugou and Deku will cover each other’s weak spots (especially when you consider the way Deku probably won’t be able to keep using his arms with the way both the anime and manga are going...) (also chapter 285, anyone?)
-
Part Two: Interactions, OfA
kofi || commission details
159 notes · View notes
peeterparkr · 3 years
Text
perennial;tom holland|fifteen.
chapter fifteen: weeds. 
↳ flower meanings: 
Daisy: new beginnings  Thistles: protection buttercups : childish  white clover: happiness 
chapter summary: the stories of the wallflowers and who we are supposed to blame
pairing: tom holland x y/n
warnings: angst, mentions of sex, UNRELIABLE authors
word count: 9K
SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER: none
previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.
perfidy  ( series masterlist)
wanna be tagged?
I know it took me forever to write this, it was so difficult to write this chapter. I KNOW IT’S UNUSUAL, but please read between the lines because I am trying to tell the story through everyone’s eyes. And EVERYTHING has a reason I swear. ESPECIAL THANKS TO @laurieteddy​ ( @erodasghosts​ ) for helping me out wit this, go thank her, there woudln’t be any chapter, 
tags aren’t working, please leave feedback asdakd
Tumblr media
People often tend to ignore the wild daisies, thistles or buttercups that dare to pop in the road, people often think of them as rather a plague, or rather too common to be interested in them. Most people try not to look at them. But when they are combined and together they can create the most beautiful bouquet. 
Some people, like Harry, however like to stop and stare and collect them, wonder how they grow in the most unsuitable places. Harry was someone who could spread love so easily, when he was a wallflower himself. Not easily noticed. A crestfallen Harry had been trying to figure out what to do, for a while now. He hadn’t been able to grow his love around anyone lately, because he’d lost his favorite flower. How would he grow daisies when the daisy did not want to grow anymore. 
Emma was one of those daisies that people often ignored. So spectacular she managed to bloom even when all the odds were against her, in the most odd places. Like daisies in the path as they managed to outgrow the asphalt, or daisies in window corners, or in random fields where people like to do picnics. 
Often people ignored her for she was outshined by other magnificent flowers. Even the night before, she’d been outshined by another flower who had just joined the game. 
Emma had been outshined by a particular flower for a while now, she did not resent her in any way. Though she could not hide her appetence, for it had come and gone so many times by now. Why would anyone stare at a daisy like her? She would wonder. 
Emma often thought of y/n to be a sunflower, unique, beautiful and vedirit, the flower that has sun in its own name because even the sun is outshined sometimes. A flower that searches for the sun, for the spotlight. Emma, a daisy was often outshined by a magnificent sunflower. Because people often think daisies can keep blooming even when they are stepped on. 
Timmy took Emma for granted. Harry had been so delicate, until he decided that he needed to know why sunflowers grew so tall. 
According to gardeners daisies are hardy, drought-tolerant plants that provide years of gorgeous, classic charm. Sure. Emma was all of that, she was tolerant but she also wanted to be loved. Very loved and she deserved it. She was such a magnificent human being who dared to pop out in the darkest situations. 
However, Emma understood why y/n got the attention. Sunflowers were also drought-tolerant but they don’t bloom that easily. It depends on the soil, how you water them… and all the care plants need. But once they bloom, such a whimsical and lyrical flower. 
Emma knew why Tim and y/n had not worked out. And Emma knew why Tom and her would work. 
Timmy liked peonies. Y/N was not a peony. 
Tom liked yellow flowers. Sunflowers, more often than not, are yellow.  
Emma did not understand, if Harry loved daisies…. Why didn't they work out? 
Did Harry truly love daisies or had he settled for the tiny version of a sunflower, the one with less impact. The one that could bloom easily. The one he didn’t have to water that often. The one flower that didn’t need the spotlight. 
Emma would replay that night over, and over. The night that champagne had been spilled because someone had dropped the glass, the night that every heart had been broken. And she wondered how not even Harry had been able to turn the disaster into a beautiful evening, because everything had been dropped. The night everyone had burned, the beautiful garden had turned into chaos, a war. A war she did not wish to be a part of. 
Emma wished to be a sunflower. And it was ironic given how many times y/n had told Emma she wanted to be like her, y/n did not see how thrilling and exciting her life was. How Emma though, knew it complicated, longed for the drama and the story and… everything. 
Sure, her and Harry had had a lovely story, but y/n and Tom? Even y/n and Timmy. Her stories were worth telling. That’s why she was bloody telling it. Full of plot twists and drama and fire. A story that kept everyone on the edge. 
And it wasn’t jealousy, it’s just— Emma was frustrated. She was just not burning in her story. She was boring and though she tried to shine and shine, she just—was taken for granted, because daisies aren’t unique. They’re delicate, though. Easy to bloom and easy to break. 
She did not want to be taken for granted. No, she wouldn’t. But maybe Harry still liked the sunflower. Or he had once, so how could he like daisies over sunflowers? 
Harry, was one big mystery to Emma, how he grew into her like poison ivy. Without poison, and flowers and just tangled into her. Emma thought Harry’s love was like a good plague, one that kept flowering through her. And growing into one couldn’t get out. 
Emma missed him, Emma missed kissing Harry. And though Emma often was against kisses, because she believed kisses were only but a hoax to get tricked into phony romance. Emma always said to beware good kissers, because you might end up thinking you’re in love. 
Emma knew that's probably what had happened to y/n, Tim had been just too good of a kisser for her, that she ended up believing she was in love with him. Lips hold poison that becomes addictive. Sometimes that addiction becomes toxic, which is what Emma believed happened to Tim. He had miscomprehended his own situation, he was not in love anymore, he was an addict to y/n. 
Or… rather, he didn’t want to accept that he hadn’t been enough sunlight for the sunflower. Sunflowers turn to the sun. Maybe Tom was the closest thing to the sun for her, maybe that’s why y/n shined the most when she was with him, her smile was the brightest, and she was the warmest. Emma knew how y/n’s smile would linger every time Tom made her smile, she’d noticed it, even on set when she was trying to hide it. She wasn’t subtle, y/n’s glance would look for Tom, and when he was around, she’d try to hold her breath. She… shined. Because sunflowers turn to the sun.
Daisies, however,search for unusual places. And Emma had searched for the most unusual place to bloom now. 
Emma had slept with Josh for a simple reason, he wasn’t a good kisser and kissing gets more intimate than sex. For Emma, a kiss could tell if you could fall in love. Kissing was but the bond of two people’s secret merging into one. 
Emma was tired, she wanted the talking to stop with Harry and just… kiss him. That’s all she wanted, but her pride was too loud. She wanted to be like the sunflower, who could easily forgive. But Emma was terrified, because she’d never been able to love like this before, and the light was still flickering. 
Emma had talked to Cherry, or rather… Listened to her, and she wondered however could she blame her. Cherry, Cherry was another victim outshined by the sunflower. Cherry was just another casualty drawn by the war, and her heartbreak, could be just as powerful. But of course, no one cared about her. She was the villain. Emma had listened to Cherry. Cherry was not in love with Tom, Emma could tell. She’d been fooled by a kiss, but no, she was not in love. Cherry had only been blinded by Tom. 
Had Emma been a villain at some sort of point? Pushing Tim and Y/N together, even if Emma knew that Tim and y/n would eventually break? 
Emma had been blinded because she knew she couldn’t lose Harry. And god, it hurt. So much, and she was confused and she needed to scream to finally be noticed. There is the inexplicable pain that comes when you don’t acknowledge it, and avoiding it won’t erase the problem, it makes it grow more and more. 
Emma did not understand why she had tried to avoid it, getting drunk, dressing up, taking long walks and singing, but she was not okay. And maybe it was finally sinking. Emma was a flower that was drying out, that was reminded of the greatest love one could have ever dreamed of. Maybe Emma had learned too much of the sunflower, but now she felt it, how Emma was now made of Harry, too. 
Emma hadn’t smiled since she’d left him, and she wished she had tried to mend things before, but Emma felt like it would take her nowhere because maybe her love had not been enough for Harry, and to feel worthless takes one strength, and Emma was getting tired of pretending she was strong. 
Probably not even Tim had noticed it, how she had stopped dressing a certain way or why she couldn’t watch certain films, she had had a haircut, and how she still couldn’t explain it to herself. Why had the fairytale faded? Days turned into night, and there she had been again, kissing another stranger. 
Emma had her head underwater and until now she noticed she couldn’t breath. The daisy was not there anymore. 
Emma never cried, but she did this one time, with a cigarette burning out in between her fingers, with the tulips in her nightstand dried out, listening to Tim complaining about Tom, whatever he tried to say Emma had not listened. 
Someone had shown up later that night, the door had rang, probably y/n willing to talk about her latest decision, Emma felt some sort of fear. Had y/n spent the entire day with Harry? 
Tim had looked up, too. Y/N could’ve forgotten her key, was she there? Emma was not sure why that had made her feel unsteady, after all this time, did she believe y/n would go for Harry? 
Timmy went to open the door and he seemed… calm. Not sure what Emma had expected, probably a crying y/n that only longed for a bottle of cheap wine for herself as they sat on the floor, near the couch, and then they would end up listening to old 80’s songs, or re-watching some poorly made netflix show that probably didn’t deserve the attention, but was good enough to have as a background. 
That was what Emma had expected. To be yet again pushed aside. 
“I’ll… want me to get the door?” Tim asked. 
Emma shook her head, knowing that y/n would not want to see Tim. Emma stood up. And it hadn’t been what she had expected.  Yet, she was filled with doubts. Had y/n… given up on Tom and decided to go with Harry? 
What happened? Had she not talked to Tom? Had she spent the day with Harry? They must have. 
How—how did the sunflower manage that? 
How could it only take them a day and be fine with it? 
There was a slight hint of jealousy over Emma, which was completely understandable. The girl had gone through so many times of being outshined by her, even y/n’s sadness had to outshine Emma’s. 
But it wasn’t y/n at the door. 
Because probably no one had cared enough to care about the wallflowers, but they had to solve it. 
And it had taken another fire to get that other wallflower to Emma’s door. 
The night before, the one thundering storm that had crashed in the other household. But it had ceased. 
Before Emma had opened the door, the other weed like flowers had had a conversation, hours before. The other casualties had been having a conversation while Tom and y/n were enjoying a sunset, everyone else was dreading the darkness the night would bring. 
Before they could even think of the solution Tom and y/n had made, it seemed like the conversation of their unpredictable mess was making them flow. Merely minutes before Tom and y/n had come back home.
James, another wallflower himself,  had spent the day of the storm with Clark and Sam, and though they seemed calm, and they had had what could be called a good day, he couldn’t stop his nerves. James was often too protective of his sister and he would not stop by now. Though, he had also been very protective of Tom. 
They went home, after Harry had warned them the other pair had left to solve their problem elsewhere. Though it was selfish, the four of them wished they could solve it for the sake of the group. 
James was worried about his sister, and he now had to worry for the impression Clark had of him and the drama. James didn’t want Clark to be involved in that drama. 
Clark, however, had been possibly the only one that understood the situation. Outsiders often see the wider picture and notice things we don’t. To Clark it was clear that the people around Tom and y/n had been their doom. Clark was not a wallflower. But he didn’t know that and he did not care. 
Clark was someone, very much like Harry, and Clark was someone who actually liked thistles. Thistles are often disregarded because of their prickles, and not very pretty among many flowers.
Clark often knew that everyone thought James was a prick. He was, for the matter, but it was often because James liked to protect himself and those around him, building fences to keep them safe. 
“I think, James, you do not give enough credit to them,” Clark said. “They managed to go from mortal enemies to a very adorable couple. What I’ve seen so far is two people who love each other so much that they grew past their hatred which, I may have been a witness to when we first started dating, those two could not be in a room without throwing knives at each other and now the way they look at each other reminds me so much of us, even I was slightly jealous of their glances. So secretive and loving.” 
Maybe they all tried to ignore that, how they’d turned arguments into flirting, and translated smirks into smiles. 
James sighed, “they haven’t changed. Plus, they—slept with other people, and our cousin?” 
Sam was quietly sitting across them, scrolling through his phone. 
Harry snorted a chuckle, “Do you think they will get out of this one?” 
“Yes,” Sam was the one to speak now. 
James rolled his eyes, “and then they’ll keep being idiots.” 
“Love changes us, idiot,” Clark said. “Look at you, before I met you, you’d be hooking up with a different person every bloody night,” he chuckled. 
James rolled his eyes, “are you slut shaming me?” 
Sam chuckled at the statement. “You /were/ a slut.” 
James rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 
“No, but I mean, when we first—started dating I was also scared of not being—You know, I’m boring—“
“You’re not boring,” James interrupted. Because he wasn’t. 
“But I am not like you are—you—you and I are very different, you are a very fun person, though sometimes you bloody decide to act all grown up to y/n, you’re still an idiot.” 
“Always acting so grown up,” Sam intruded. “As if you knew what you were doing.” 
“I do know!” James complained. 
Harry laughed, “you do not.” 
“Especially when it comes to y/n,” Sam said. “That’s the least you know.” 
Harry, also standing nearby, rolled his eyes and nodded. 
“No, no, that’s not true, I think you do know,” Clark pointed out. “But you are too worried to see that this is—Look, okay not right now, but I do think your sister and—“Clark turned to Sam and Harry. “And your brother are so in love but they kept listening to all of you and ended up sabotaging themselves.” 
“They’re idiots,” Harry finally commented. 
“So is James and look at us,” Clark pointed out. 
James chuckled, “are you done insulting your fiancé?” 
“I’m not insulting you,” he kissed his cheek. “My point is, you changed and we adapted and we became this magnificent couple, but it’s not always been easy.” 
James stayed quiet, he knew that. It had not been rainbows and butterflies but they’d managed to come through.
Clark watched him, James was often too insecure of everything and built walts and pricked anyone who tried to tumble them down, Clark included. And James often did the same thing with y/n, trying to hide her from the world, and always trying to be the bigger person. 
“I think their problem is the exact problem of ours,” Clark continued. “While everyone here is meddling in their relationship, you sister didn’t even know we were serious.” 
Clark and James had had a nice relationship but every obstacle on their way had almost been powerful enough to break them apart. However each time they had outgrown it, their relationship had come stronger. That’s probably why Clark believed in the other pair. But Clark also believed James had overprotected y/n and not let her make her own decisions, maybe y/n had tried to convince herself to love Tim because her own brother had told her to. Maybe y/n had doubted Tom because her own brother told her to. 
“I…” James sighed. “I know this kind of stuff happens to y/n, and Tom and y/n specifically, look I didn’t bring you that one time at the engagement party and look what happened, I am--That’s the thing, Tom and y/n always… Even when they weren’t dating we were always on the edge of what they will do next, look at us now I don’t know what they will come up with tonight.” 
Harry sighed, and rolled his eyes, he did not want to keep being part of that conversation. He left. 
Clark did understand why James had been so keen on having their relationship so private. James was scared of the other obstacles that he could not control. James did not trust his sister that much, not with relationships. 
Even when Y/N was dating Tim, James had told Clark how he thought the guy was perfect for her but that he didn’t trust y/n. Maybe James did know why y/n couldn’t love Tim back as much as Tim loved her. 
“What I’ve seen is them so in love, and I can tell she truly loves him and is not forcing herself to love him,” Clark said. 
James frowned. “What?” 
Clark took a deep breath, “I feel like y/n—I, look, I’m not—“Clark gulped. 
Sam frowned “what?” 
“I—Okay, I met y/n when she was in another relationship,” Clark reminded them. “With Tim.” 
“She loved Tim,” James said. “Tim—“
“No, I know, I know, but I see y/n just—she is so free when she is with Tom, and I met Tom before I met any of you.” 
James probably understood this. James had criticized y/n when she was dating Tim. But James loved Tim because he had loved y/n, so unconditionally, and Clark had pointed it out to James, how Tim would go to the end of the world for her. 
Which is what James would do for Clark. And what Clark would do for James. But Clark had always known that y/n wouldn’t for Tim. Because it seemed that every time she dressed up for Tim, she wished she was dressing up for someone else. 
“So?” Sam questioned. 
But Clark knew that Tom and y/n would go to the end of the world for each other, and they had proved it several times now. And Clark knew that this was the first time y/n did not do what her brother told her to do, this was her fighting for her own heart and this was her not wanting to be under protection of her brother. 
“I think Tom and y/n will work it out, I don’t think it’s easy, but—I think that both of them, if they’ve outgrown everything else, they will outgrow this and you should be supportive whatever their decision is,” Clark stated. 
“And if they break up?” Sam questioned, “what will happen to us?”
What would happen to them. Clark knew that probably was what James feared the most. James and Tom had always been friends, there had always been a type of bond between them. It was even weird to him seeing him and his sister so foolishly in love. James knew he would have to say goodbye to Tom, even if he was going to ask him to be the best man. James would have to let Tom go. 
And James wondered how y/n would be. Y/N had spent her whole life in love with Tom, her whole life had been wrapped around that fact. James knew. So what would happen if it ever happened? 
James and Tom had always been friends. 
Sam and y/n had been friends for as long as they could recall, always making fun of each other, building the funniest of anecdotes. Sure everyone knew Harry and y/n had always been best friends. But barely people acknowledged how close Sam and y/n were. 
Sam was always left on the outside, probably because he always liked to avoid trouble. Sam, more often than not, was considered to be the most childish in the group. Sam was not childish, he just simply did not understand. Sam was not ignored. Buttercups are loved, though sometimes their love is spread too much and people don’t know what they have to do with it. The problem is when it becomes too much and often, people don’t know what to do with it. 
Sam had distanced because he was one of the few people who did not stand y/n and Tom, long before they were dating. He did not stand their bickering, he hated taking sides. Of course everything had made sense when they had confessed they were madly in love but Sam didn’t quite figure it out. How could anyone hate and then love? 
For Sam, it had not made any sense, partly. He had known y/n was in love with Tom, her glance was so obvious and then when he had looked back at it, it made perfect sense. 
Though she had despised Tom, every now and then Sam would notice y/n hide a smile. 
Sam had always tried to figure everything out, and his own imagination often led to conclusions that would drive him insane. Like a child, he always asked the questions. 
How? How could she be in love with her very own enemy? 
Sam had been the one to drive her home after that heartbreak, after the nightclub. Sam had been the one to listen to her and—Sam had been the one to know she wouldn’t get out of that heartbreak that easily. 
Sam had also been the first to know Y/N would date Tim, and he had been the first person—after Harrison to hear Tom say he was in love with her. 
Clark’s remark had made Sam think about Tim and y/n, to compare it to Tom and y/n. 
The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. 
However, Sam had been the only one to ask Tom after the engagement party, probably. “It’s so scary to think I’ve loved her my whole life and it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to.” 
Sam remembered when he found out about it, and how angry he was at his brother but how happy he had been after he heard they were having fun in New York. Even when they had told their parents, it seemed that Sam’s fear and anger had gone away, and then… The engagement party. 
Sam thought of how scary it was to lose someone you have loved your whole life , but he understood why they were persistent, because if they were so in love and had been for a while, growing past each , how come this had turned into this mess? 
Sometimes love isn’t what we think of it. 
Sam had been the only one to tell y/n that Timmy and her were not made for each other. She hadn’t questioned him, probably because she knew it. But Sam had been the only one to tell her. Probably because he knew his own brother, Harry at the time of course, he knew nothing about Tom, was deeply in love with her. Maybe that’s what drove Sam to say it but… honestly, Sam did not trust Timothee to be around y/n. He agreed with Tom most of the times when he criticized Timothee. 
But he had stayed quiet long enough. 
Sam had been the one who had noticed that Tim had known about Harry’s feelings, Harry had never been subtle but… he knew Timothee had noticed.
There were a lot of things Sam had noticed, like how Tim had set up Harry with Emma. Which, of course, ended up being the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Harry, but Sam knew Tim had done it but to get rid of Harry. 
Tom had once pointed it out to Sam.
“That guy, Tim, the one y/n is hooking up with,” he had said with poison. “He seems that he quickly got rid of Harry eh? He set Harry up with this other girl just so he can have y/n to himself.” 
No, but—Harry and Emma had met at the club. But—maybe Tim had set them up? 
And it had seemed like that. Sam wondered what Tim had done to get rid of Tom, because he had probably noticed about it. Timothée was very, very observant. Quiet. 
Timothee had probably noticed about Tom’s infatuation long before anyone else had. 
Sam knew Timothée was a very, very smart individual. He was very quiet and Sam did not quite like that. Everything he said was like a perfectly crafted plan. He was incredibly smart, and Sam didn’t trust that. But of course, he had been the one to stay quiet for a long time. However, he saw that y/n was happy. And Sam really liked that, because he’d seen her right after that club night, and Sam had been the only one she would reach out to. Occasionally. 
Sam had been the first one to know that y/n had declined Tim’s proposal. Sam had been the one y/n had called because she knew Harry was with Emma. Sam didn’t know the real reason why she had declined the proposal. He only remembered how she had arrived at him and was barely breathing. After coming back from that trip to France, to meet his grandparents. Barely anyone knew she had come earlier from that trip, she had cut it short. Coming back to London alone, she’d taken the Eurostar, and it seemed she’d cried all her way back home. 
She’d asked Sam to go and pick her up to get her home. She was speaking quickly and nonsense as if she had been barely breathing for the trip. “I-I said no, I should’ve said yes, I love him but I don’t… don’t even know why I said no, I can’t believe I said no I am so stupid.” 
She was crying, saying nothing made sense and how her heart had broken because she couldn’t come up with a real reason to say no. Sam had asked if she was ready, if she loved him. Because y/n had not told him what had happened. 
“Did you break up?” Sam asked.
“No.” 
“What happened?” He questioned. 
She had taken a deep breath. “I don’t love him enough.” 
She hadn’t seen it coming, but Harry had told Sam. Harry knew Tim would propose. Emma had told Harry. Everyone thought she would say yes, honestly. You never really truly know how a relationship is behind closed doors, but… Sam had been grateful she’d said no. The skeletons in his closet had not come out yet. 
Y/N had always thought that Sam didn’t know, but he was very aware. 
“I met his grandma, and—She said I would be perfect, I think they—-“she had said. “And—he gave it on a film canister… and I love him, but I’m not—not completely in love. There—there is a part of me that still is not over Tom and I am not sure if I will ever be completely healed from the pain he’s caused me, and that impedes me from loving Tim.” 
Sam knew there wasn’t really anything to be worried about, but Sam had known it for a long time. How Tim was probably a master of manipulation. But he knew it, too. Tom had broken y/n to the next level. 
“Will you ever be over Tom?” Sam asked. 
She had not answered. She wouldn’t be. 
Timothée was not a bad person. But Tim often did things to get things done his way, even when he didn’t see it. 
“You know I won’t,” she said eventually. 
What part had Tim played in this mess? Though there wasn’t much of a part to be played, because y/n and Tom seemed to love creating the chaos themselves, Sam could only wonder what exactly had Tim done to try and take Tom out of the picture. 
Though we could argue that it was ‘after Rome’, Sam had noticed that y/n did hate Tom more after Tim’s arrival. But it’s a very fine line because there is a lot Sam didn’t know as to what had happened in Rome and it was after the nightclub. 
Sam didn’t understand why they said ‘Rome’, as if Rome had been the place that had been cursed when in fact it had been the very NightClub when things had shattered. For a heart to shatter, it needs to be made of glass. Hearts can only be made of glass when they’re so thoroughly in love. A heart that’s not in love is not easy to break. It’s funny, the stronger the love, the weaker the heart, in some sort of way. 
No, Sam had to rephrase that. When a love is so strong, the heartbreak will be more painful. So, Sam could only guess how in love y/n had been to have a heart so shattered. And how was she doing now? And after the script? But last night… She’d made the same face she’d made that night at that club. 
There is something about seeing your best friend heartbroken, it fuels your inner rage. Then again, he’d seen his brother heartbroken too. 
That’s why Sam usually stepped out, he was not sure how he was supposed to proceed. 
But Sam had missed y/n and he didn’t want to miss her again. And then, the night before. He had seen her face, and then she had run away, with Harry this time. Sam had thought she would ask him to drive her away again, like all those times before. Instead, he had stayed with his brother. 
He’d heard Tom cry the night before. 
But y/n? How had she spent her night? Maybe this time her heart made of glass had been covered on something else or it… was simply too broken now that the shattered pieces couldn’t be turned but into dust for now. 
Sam didn’t blame Tom or y/n. But he had to blame someone. 
There was something about Tim, or maybe blaming it on Tim was easier for Sam so he didn’t have to take any sides. He could also blame Cherry, but the poor girl had done nothing wrong but to be a fool, and there is a fine line there. 
Sam decided to keep blaming Tim. What did Tim have to do with y/n’s heartbreak? 
Hadn’t he told her, after their breakup? To sort her feelings out. What did Tim do? Because Tim was very smart. 
Tim definitely knew about Tom and y/n. He had probably been the only damn person to have known it since the beginning. 
What had Tim said to poison y/n even more against Tom? He had been the one to teach her that one word, perfidy. 
Sam had read the script. And something didn’t sit right with Teddy’s character, how he seemed so perfect and yet he had seen y/n run from another country. How Teddy pointed it out, about William and Valerie. 
It meant he had pointed out between Tom and y/n. 
What had he told y/n about Tom? Yes, Tom and y/n were enemies, and they’d always been, always fighting, but in the end they were friends. In their own way. Maybe only because of the family, but… 
Something just didn’t click with Sam. 
Probably Tim had poisoned y/n with horrible thoughts about Tom, because y/n had said Tom was a monster, she’d written about it. How could someone ever love someone like him? 
Tim was not a bad person. Sam had to tell himself that. Because he wasn’t, really. At the end of the day he was a good friend but… The guy just was… sketchy. To Sam, because it was just as if he had manipulated y/n into loving him. 
Or, no, no that’s not how love works. No, y/n had loved him but maybe y/n had known it all the time. 
But it just… He always wanted the best for y/n. Right? 
Had… What had Tim done to bring y/n to LA, too? 
Of course it was stupid to think, but… Sam didn’t want to jump into conclusions but he knew Tim was no saint. He knew that Tim knew y/n. That’s something Sam pointed out every time, Sam knew y/n. He remembered how Tim had brought another girl to his and Harry’s birthday party, knowing damn well y/n’s biggest fear was to be replaced. So if he knew it so, so well, why had he done it? To hurt her? 
But also, Tim was the one to… Sam had to erase those thoughts. No, Tim wasn’t a bad person because he’d also been the one to show y/n she could smile again, and she could laugh and love. 
And Sam knew how the breakup had gone, New Year’s Eve, when y/n had drunkenly confessed to Tim: 
“There’s still a part of me that will always wonder if Tom’s the love of my life.” 
To hear that from the person you love the most, must change you. And Tim had asked her to sort her feelings out. 
Sam could not blame Tim. 
But then again… He had kissed y/n right when he knew Tom and y/n were starting something. And who had come to comfort y/n after the engagement party? Tim. 
It seemed like it was so perfectly calculated. So, very well planned. Or maybe not, maybe Tim had noticed how Tom and y/n were so fragile, that would break easily. That’s the thing about Tom and y/n, they were both so scared of the outcome, of any pebble that could be thrown their way and would deter their relationship, that’s why they lived so fast because they both feared the end, they both feared they wouldn’t be strong enough for the bullets shot their way. 
Maybe Tim knew that, and maybe Tim knew which pebbles to throw. 
Cherry had once told Sam that Tim had been the one to convince y/n to change places with her. And Cherry had said she had been delighted with Tim. Which only brought him to the night before. 
Tim had asked Cherry to stay the night at his place. Sam had heard him ask her. No, Tim had not asked in any wrong way, but in a friendly way because the girl had been destroyed. 
However, Sam thought there was something fishy in all of the situation. Sam had a slight suspicion that this mess had to do with Tim. Cherry had asked him the night before how long Tim and y/n-Tim, not Tom, how long Timothee and y/n had been dating. Sam had said they weren’t. And they wouldn’t be. Had Tim said something to lead to this mess? Was he the reason why at midnight Tom’s and y/n’s fantasy shattered? Why had Tim asked Cherry to go to his place? Maybe he had to do something with it.
Or maybe Tim only loved y/n. And he had been so blinded by his own love that he hadn’t stopped to realize some things he’d done were wrong. But you can never really know what’s going on behind closed doors. 
Harry had his door closed, and Sam wanted to ask his brother what exactly he was going through. Though, he knew he was not having a good time. That was no secret.  
Sam knocked on the door. 
Harry opened the door to watch his brother, Harry hadn’t slept and he was not breathing. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down, but Sam could tell he was angry. Very, very angry. 
“Why did he fucking do it at the engagement party?” Harry asked Sam. 
There it was, a conversation they had had millions of times, yet never truly acknowledging it had been the night everyone had burned. 
Because Harry often avoided the question. Sam was also slightly angry at how they had had to forgive Tom because Tom was in love and because Tom’s heart had been shattered. But Tom’s drunken speech had led to all this mess and the pain still lingered for the family. 
Maybe that’s why no one in the family was really telling anything to Tom, maybe that’s why they weren’t eager with Tom and y/n being together. But they would all stay quiet. Maybe the real reason why James had been reluctant to them was because they feared their battles would leave even more casualties. 
No one really had stopped to think how their relationship had changed everyone’s situation, how y/n’s parents had barely talked to the Hollands. How James wouldn’t go out for drinks with the twins and that’s why they didn’t know how serious he was with Clark. How James had to keep his boyfriend out of the drama because he didn’t want his own relationship to get ruined. How Harry and Sam had lost their best friend. How Emma had to run to another country to get over her heartbreak. How Harry had lost the love of his life. 
Everyone seemed too focused on how Tom and y/n were trying to get out of this one that everybody had simply forgotten everything they’d left behind. All the casualties. 
Every single wallflower, all the weed flowers that had kept growing and had not had the chance to grow. 
“I… why do they always have to do everything big? Like first, the engagement party, why did Tom choose to explode there? Why did y/n write a script like that? It’s obvious they both wanted to fail, it’s so-so obvious, and then? What did he do? He slept with her cousin, out of everyone, her cousin… And she slept with Tim!” 
Y/n had slept with Tim. Yet another pebble thrown at trying to get Tom and y/n back into the woods.  Sam could only try and wonder why y/n had let herself be fooled again, maybe it was a rebound but then again… Maybe Tim wasn’t really the problem, but maybe y/n still felt guilty for that proposal. 
Sam remembered it. 
“I will never forgive myself because I will never love him the way he loves me.” 
Guilt, guilt often grows like poison ivy and covers you and tangles you until you cannot be able to step out of it. Maybe that was the reason why y/n couldn’t stay away from Tim, because Tim had been the one to make her feel loved, and yet she’d never loved him back the same way. 
“… Oh my god, y/n knew she could’ve slept with anybody and Tom would’ve not cared but with it’s like she did it on purpose because they have to make everything big,” Harry continued. “And I’m… so tired of it….Like last night, why did that have to happen? They could’ve talked about it but neither did it because they had to wait until the bomb exploded and bring everyone down with them….  I couldn’t even think of my heartbreak because Y/N had it worse, no, I’m not blaming her but-” Harry sighed. “Yes, whatever they love each other but… But what about my own relationship? What about James’  relationship? Didn’t he fear this drama would push Clark away?” 
Sam only listened. 
“Why did--Why did we have to direct her script so he could make a big entrance and win her back? I knew this would jeopardize my relationship with Emma.” 
Because this was always what happened with them. Even when they were enemies. Sam hated it. Always a big, big fight, argument, how they’d have to take sides and take turns to not have them at the same place, and when they were, they would always, always make it big. 
“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. 
Harry sighed. “And they don’t-even care, they just--Like I had to see Emma today and pick up y/n’s clothes and..that would ruin me and yet I did it, because both Tom and y/n are so fucking selfish and I don’t care-I genuinely couldn’t care less about their drama anymore, I come back and they had fucked, like-” Harry took a deep breath. “Oh my god, how do they fuck it up so badly? They’re only sabotaging themselves... And I don’t know and-why do we have to keep being dragged by their bullshit? If I have to listen to Tom complain about Tim one more fucking time…” 
Sam didn’t blame anyone, honestly. 
“And look, I don’t even know what the fuck they’re gonna come up with now, they’re so unpredictable and I don’t… If they break up I don’t want to listen to their rambling I… I just can’t sympathise with them anymore, I… No, I don’t mean that. I just… I need my time, too, you know? I need to be angry and I need to get it out and I need to cry it out because I’m-” His voice was breaking. “I’m not okay, I lost Emma, and I know-But oh my god, we couldn’t even come home because they were here fighting or fucking or I don’t even know.” 
“Everything was easier when they hated each other,” Sam said. And he meant it. But Sam did try to stop and wonder, what would happen if they were apart? 
Tom had changed. Sam had noticed, how sad his brother had turned and only a few days ago how he had a smile back on. 
Harry scoffed. “I said that, too.” 
“What are you going to do with Emma?” Sam asked, because he didn’t want to feed into the Tom and y/n situation, it would give him a headache. 
“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “I… don’t know. I don’t know because… I am angry because my problem with her started because of Tom and y/n and--” Harry’s glance was glazing, but he was trying to stop himself. 
“And I hate it because I should’ve called her but I didn’t because I had all these doubts and I… never got my own closure and I just had to deal with it and accept it because Tom this, y/n that and… I just want to… I want to get back to Emma but I don’t know if I could because Emma is friends with Tim and guess what? That would bring trouble and-” 
Sam crossed his arms, listening. 
“Or-or what if my friendship with y/n still bothers her? Even if she’s friends with her, and--I don’t even know, because she came here and I don’t know if she’d ever come back to London.” 
Harry was shattering. 
“I don’t even-know how to talk to her, she’s a stranger and I… I never thought that would ever happen, and she is just so cold and she…I hurt her so much she decided to move to an entire different country, you realize that? Maybe because she didn’t want to see me anymore, I don’t know what she wants,” Harry continued as he plopped on his bed. “And I don’t… No, I do, I do care she slept with someone else because I know she did it just to prove me a point, I know that she hates me now.” 
Sam thought about it again, he didn’t think Emma hated Harry. No, she couldn’t. 
A laugh was heard, and it was undeniably Tom’s, followed by a remark by y/n. Both twins turned their head to the door. Sam decided to close the door, he needed to listen to his brother, the other wallflower. 
Harry had this curse, he was ivy, and he was white cloves. He knew Emma had loved it before but she probably cursed him for it now. Harry often made everything happy, and sometimes happiness is the toughest emotion to bear, Harry would spread his happiness everywhere he could go, but lately he couldn’t, there was barely any anticipation and his heart had felt numb and empty. As if the time when Emma had left, his heart had an indentation waiting to be filled by her. 
“I love her, and I was supposed to love her for a lifetime and—“Harry said. “And… Maybe I wish I could…” He squinted. “Did you hear him? That was Tom, he was laughing, right?” 
Sam bit his inner cheeks. “Yeah.” 
“How long do you think that will last?” Harry sighed. “Even if it doesn’t. How-how does he do that?” 
Sam only frowned. 
“Do you think if I show up to Emma and just smile at her everything will be fixed?” Harry questioned and then laughed at the statement. 
Harry was tired of not knowing what to do. And he was tired that he wanted to fix everything, but he felt that if he even tried to, everything would fall down. Inconspicuously, Harry had tried to go along his whole life without messing things up and that led him to where he was standing right now. 
Harry sighed, “do you think they are going to sit us down and walk us through their decision?” Harry inquired. 
Sam rolled his eyes, “I think you should focus back on Emma.” 
“Right,” Harry sighed. “I just—It wasn’t only the—you know, I’ve been thinking, and my downfall with Emma wasn’t only from the engagement party. It had been something very crafted,” Harry explained, as he paced around the room. “I—I need a beer,” Harry said, as he finally opened the door to head to the kitchen, Sam followed after. 
They saw James and Clark, confused, still at the living room, they had probably seen y/n and Tom walking in. 
“Any heads up?” Harry asked them. 
James looked up and made out a noise that could be translated into an ‘I don’t know.’ 
Harry rolled his eyes. He was tired. He didn’t want to deal with them. 
“Where are they?” Sam asked. 
“They—walked in—“Clark started.
 “Ignored us,” James added. 
Clark chuckled, “they went to the kitchen, and then went outside, they didn’t ignore us, they were just—“ 
“Too busy staring into each other’s eyes,” James chanted with sarcasm. 
“They were talking,” Clark cleared up. “I think we shouldn’t—“
“No, I wasn’t planning to, I don’t care about them right now,” Harry said heading to the kitchen, he could get a glance of them by the window, they seemed calm, which honestly were good news. At least they didn’t have to hear them screaming. 
Harry opened the fridge to get a beer, and then leaned against the counter. Sam double glanced at the couple outside and then grabbed a beer for himself. 
“They… They were fighting before,” said Harry. “And apparently they slept together, again,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand how they do it,” Harry groaned as he stared at the cold beer in his hand. 
Sam crossed his arms, “Stop avoiding it and explain why your downfall with Emma was even before the engagement party.” 
Harry rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “It was around the time, when I decided… Tim and I had both talked about it, alright? When he asked me about… Proposing to y/n,” Harry explained. “It was… “ Harry took a deep breath. “I think he was… the one to give me the idea,” Harry said. 
The night Harry had decided he would marry Emma, he was so scared. Because he had been so sure for his entire life that he had been in love with y/n, when in reality it came no close to what he felt for Emma. He had been quiet about it. 
Harry had once read we all fall in love with three people, the first time you ever love, you are young, it’s the first time you ever experience it, how silly it is to think of it. It feels so pure, and real and it’s incomprehensible, and looking back at it, you must think it wasn’t love. But it is, in its purest form because it’s so undeniably real and childish even. It’s the first time you encounter happiness. The time you learn to love. 
Harry hadn’t been in love for all the time. He’d fallen out of love with her and fell back in love. The second time one falls in love is  the one that breaks your heart. But they’re the person everyone expects you to love, the one flower that is pretty. The one that teaches lessons, the one that shows what pain is. You learn from it, what makes you grow, what doesn’t. Y/N had been the second one, too. The second love makes us learn what we love about love, good things, and what we don’t. This love is so powerful because it builds us, and we will often try and look back at it, because you might think it’s the one. And we can be blinded by their cold stare and try to fight for it, and though it brings a warm sunset, it’s not… It eventually dawns.  The one when we learn about ourselves. The one that teaches us to love ourselves. The one before the one. 
Then there’s the third one, the one you don’t expect, it hits without warning and one day you just… simply know it, and Harry had known it, so stupidly. It comes. The one that you don’t search for, the one that is just… right there for you, the one that you never thought you’d fall for. The one that tumbles down all of our walls because you can build a path together. It’s not who you usually like, it’s not like one of those crushes that you’ve had growing up, it brings the best of you. Because you find yourself in a field of all their flowers that have grown into your heart, and it’s beautiful, a dreamland. And you learn to love what you used to hate about love. It’s not the big flower, it’s the one flower you find along the way… the daisy. 
That was Emma, all the flaws he loved, evergreen happiness even when everything might fall down. Covered with her, with those eyes that Harry wanted to see forever. So unexpected and now, he wanted her to be every book he read. 
But he’d lost her. 
“And I bought the ring,” Harry said. “But… Then I asked y/n what she thought,” Harry said. “Y/N was the one before the one,” he explained. “But we sometimes get confused, and… She told me not to marry Emma, and I doubted it. Because no one thought I should and I… I am here now hating myself because I tend to listen to everyone when all that mattered was I loved Emma, I still love her, and-” 
Harry thought then, how ironic it was. Maybe that’s why Tom and y/n were out there talking, because it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. It was them who mattered and how they wished to go through it. 
“I think I started doubting myself,” Harry said. “And then… it happened and…I lost her, I didn’t know because I was the fool who thought that y/n was the one… When, she never was, and I want to just… Jump to Emma and kiss her, just like they do it, so simply,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d sacrifice everything for Emma.” 
Sam blew his cheeks. “Why don’t you, then?”
Harry glanced up, “What? Pull a Tom and just show up and kiss her?” 
Sma shrugged. “Yeah. Why don’t you? I mean, it’s worth the shot.” 
And it was, maybe it had been the fact that he’d seen Tom and y/n working it out despite everything. Despite being so different, despite having every wall, they were out there tumbling it down. And maybe that’s what led him to be standing behind that door, staring at the daisy he never thought he would ever love but couldn’t think he could live without. For once, Harry had no doubts, for once Harry did not want to be a wallflower everyone took for granted to spread happiness. 
 “I…” Harry was shaking. But it had to be done and it had to be said.  “I… I love you.” 
And that was the one outcome Emma had not expected from that whole day. But she gave in anyway, finally giving in to kiss him. And for the first time, she became the sunflower. 
previous chapter next chapter  
perfidy  ( series masterlist)
wanna be tagged?
tag list   @spidxrparkxr @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @happywolves81   @happywolves81 @happywolves81 @happywolves81    @applenter @claredolphinbear24 @claredolphinbear24   @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @nevertoofarfromivar @nevertoofarfromivar @herofiennestiffinashardinscott.  @tomzfrog @dark-infernal-instruments @awkwardfangirl2014 @awkwardfangirl2014  @tomzfrog​  @tomzfrog @xapham @xapham @tomhollandisagod @tomhollandisagod @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter   @the-lost-fairy-tale @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @lala-florez    @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @xxtomxo @muffinmari25   @cassindeansass  @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespideyy @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams @sanniegirl1214 @softholand  @softholand @fairytaleparker @fairytaleparker @griff1ndor @griff1ndor @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @spider-manholland @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives  @snoopy3000 @snoopy3000 @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @lexshead @mannien @whitewolfandthefox @melodiclovesong @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter  @bizzlepotter @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx  @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @dangerousluv1 @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @emjaywrites @infamousmany @jungeunave @forevermore-euphoria @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @desir-ae @desir-ae @desir-ae @peterporkpie @peterporkpie @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @quackeroos @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @hollandcreep @milly7110 @milly7110 @rebekkah4766 @farfromtommy  @rubberducky-jrr @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade  @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster @thatdamjoke @annathesillyfriend @l0ove-sick-blues @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @bookworm06  @bookworm06  @lala-florez @lala-florez @chaoticpete @shezzalocked @peeterparkr @peeterparkr @lowkey-love-loki @cosmichollands-blog @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na jj @saintlavrents @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @simple-things @sip-portteam  @herondale-snow-carstairs @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic  @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt  @hollandstanevans @hollandstanevans @farfromtommy @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @harryssuckz @xstarbae @xstarbae @xstarbae @peterbparkerrwrites   @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights  @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @emyla3305 @abbiefangirls247 @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbmineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab  @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @geminiparkers@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @slytherinambitious @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @viagracex @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive @aleyabee @aleyabee @lovewolfspirit @lovewolfspirit  @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid  @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind @redhoodparker @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you @xxpeachyxo @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper @morbiddanvers @runaway3 @runaway3 @runaway3  @lu-morningstar @th0ttie4tommy @th0ttie4tommy @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip @readheadwriter @geesquariid @noxceleste @noxceleste   @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything @peterporkpie @bookworm06 @panicattheeverywherekid @imthefloor @ohmyquackson @ohmyquackson @wangtan-boys @obiwanownsmyass @sadisticfries @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08 @lovemarvelousfics @tomzfrog @tomzfrog @thearchersupremacy @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever @just-kickin-ass @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @samaratheweirdo @fr3akingphantrash @i-love-superhero @mandeeleebeebee @captainamirica @dramaticdiva @halparkebitch
166 notes · View notes
citadelspires · 3 years
Text
Amphibia Oneshot Thing(I Never Claimed To Be Good At Titles)
I had an idea for a fun little story thing while I was at work over the weekend, and decided to take the time to write it up into this. In all honesty this is ridiculously self indulgent, and I wrote it late at night with no editing, beta reading, or even just looking back over it once I finished. Essentially I wrote this entirely for myself and just threw it on here in the hopes maybe a few other people might enjoy it like I do. That’s all I gotta say up front so just, here you go. (this is a long one so most of the story will be under a cut).
Anne found herself wandering around a lot of parks these days. After all her time inAmphibia sitting around in her house only made her anxious, and the city was just dull. So she would sit in the areas with the most foliage, where it always felt the most comfortable. Like one of her old adventures could come find her any second. Like she could pretend her friends were just around the corner and surely if she waited just one more second Marcy would come tumbling out of those bushes, launching right away into a rambling speech about a new plant she'd found, the perfect mix of adorable passion and somewhat interesting information that would always make Anne smile.
She knew that wasn't going to happen. She'd known and tried to force herself to get used to the idea, but even as her miserable daydream was interrupted by the rustling of the very bushes she'd imagined, she hoped for a second maybe she'd imagined it all. She hadn't of course, and the boy who pushed his way out of the bushes was anything but her Marcy. Even so, he must have noticed her solemn expression, because he immediately walked over to where she sat with a look of concern on his face.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Anne was surprised by the question for a moment, then again, she realized, she probably did look pretty miserable, moping around in the dirt in a random park. She was tempted to give an offhanded reply of dismissal, she was fine and his concern was almost certainly just a polite formality. But she was never good at following through with all that smile and say Im fine stuff.
"I've been better," she sighed.
The boy in front of her frowned, and took a seat beside her.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Anne blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction. She took a second glance at the kid, wondering what his deal was. He looked a few years younger than her, probably about Sprig's age, dressed for wandering around the woods. He looked like a kid who liked an adventure, maybe that's why Anne felt like she might be able to talk to him. She couldn't say everything of course, god knows she'd need a full time therapist for all her turmoil, but maybe she could simplify it a little bit, dance around the truth slightly. Besides, the more she thought about it the more the idea of talking to a regular kid sounded nice.
"Well," she began, searching for each word and phrase carefully, "a while ago, me and my friends found this weird place. It was scary at first, and I was nervous for a bit, but after a while I grew to love it a lot. I think- I know my friends felt the same. It was a really magical place, but it, uh, well its not around anymore. And I feel like I left a part of myself with it." Anne suddenly became overwhelmingly aware that she had just poured her heart out to a random stranger, and probably sounded insane on top of it, "Ugggh I sound stupid, nevermind kid just ignore me, thanks for trying though."
She started to get up and walk away but the boy jumped up at the same time.
"Wait, hold on. I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but from the sound of it, I think I kind of get it. I've got a pretty magical place of my own, I can't imagine loosing it. I know it's not the same but, I could take you there, if that would help?"
Anne turned back to look, not sure why this kid was so eager to help, until she saw the look on his face. He just looked like a kid who wanted to help, just for the sake of being nice. In that moment he reminded her of Sprig again, and she couldn't help it, she laughed.
"Seriously? You don't even know me. You sure?"
The boy shrugged and smiled. "There's lots of cool people I don't know yet. And you seem nice. So," he reached out his hand, "my name's Craig, nice to meet you."
As weird as this was, Anne had seen weirder, so sure, why not. She took the boy's hand.
"Call me Anne."
---
As they walked Anne started to wonder where this weird kid was taking her. Sure “magical place” in her situation was fairly literal, but she didn’t think she was exactly in the most common position for a kid. Or really for anyone for that matter. Still, the boy seemed pretty excited about it, so she figured she’d give it a shot. Better than moping around in some random bushes all day. Who knows, maybe she could even get her hopes up a little bit there would at least be something cool out there.
‘Something cool’ turned out to be a tree stump. Anne wasn’t sure if the kid was serious or not when they first got to the clearing, but based on the way he jumped up on the tree base and spread his arms wide.
“Welcome to the stump!”
Anne stared at him for a few seconds, not sure how to respond. Before bursting into laughter. She just couldn’t help it. There had been so much buildup, all for, apparently a regular tree stump. Craig crossed his arms and spoke up.
“Hey, I know it doesn’t look like much, but you haven’t seen anything yet, watch this!”
Whatever he was about to do, though, was cut off by a battle cry and a flash of orange hair flying at Anne from the trees. It was pure instinct, really, when Anne dove behind cover of the stump screaming,
“It’s an ambush!”
She realized her mistake a few short seconds later. Ivy Sundew literally could not be here. So, with no small amount of hesitation, she peeked over the edge of the stump to see a small girl pointing a homemade sword at her while trying to cover up a pouting expression. Anne could vaguely make out the girl muttering under her breath about how “noble warriors don’t ‘ambush.’“
“So, uh, are you gonna put the sword down orrr...”
Anne trailed off as the girl gave her a weary glance and muttered something about ‘intruders.’ It was at this point that Craig, who seemed to have tripped and fallen off the stump in the chaos, also poked his head back up and called out,
“Kelsey, wait! She’s with me!”
The short girl’s demeanor changed immediately.
“Oh, cool! Hi Craig, hi new girl, sorry I attacked you, I thought you were a devilish intruder.”
“Don’t worry about it, I get randomly attacked a lot, it happens.”
The girl, Kelsey, apparently, looked over Anne again, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“You do? Do you need a heroic guardian to protect you?”
Well, Anne noted, maybe this girl wasn’t so similar to Ivy after all. Though she still got the feeling the two of them would get along exceptionally well. She gave Kelsey a grateful smile, but shrugged off the offer.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Kelsey nodded, seeming to finally relax, though she did pause for a moment and stare off into the distance, though to Anne it seemed more like she was probably just gazing into the depths of a random tree. She gave Craig a curious look, but he only waved it off, apparently this was just how things worked with Kelsey. Noted. When she came back down to earth Craig was waiting with a question,
“Where’s J.P.?”
“Oh he found a butterfly and then chased it into a mud puddle. It was close though so I went on ahead.” Her tone of voice suddenly changed into a much more dramatic one. “He and I both had our own battles to fight.” Before immediately going back to her normal one. “But he should be right behind me.”
Sure enough it was at  that moment another boy crawled out from the foliage outlining the clearing. This one already in a considerably messier state than either of the kids Anne had met so far. He wandered over to the stump, repeating the tale Kelsey had just told them, this time with a much higher focus on the mud puddle. He didn’t seem to notice Anne at all until she cleared her throat and waved hello. The boy, J.P. she assumed, immediately jumped with an exclamation of surprise.
“Relax J.P. she’s cool.”
Anne was a little pleased to notice this reassurance came from Kelsey this time, and didn’t miss the way Craig nodded in agreement.
“She was off by herself so I thought we could give her a tour of the creek.”
That last bit caught Anne off guard, just a bit. Up till this point she had just been assuming Craig had took her here to see the stump and his friends. She wasn’t sure how much more exciting one creek could be, but after all her time in Amphibia she wasn’t one for making too many assumptions about that kind of thing. Turning her focus back to J.P. she noticed how he looked her up and down with squinted eyes, before seeming to focus on the leaves and sticks that had (again?! seriously?!) gotten tangled in her hair, and nodding sagely.
“Good call Craig! I like her style.”
As J.P. immediately began to inspect the ground for his own leaf, which he immediately deposited snugly in his, much shorter, hair, Craig waved Anne over to the stump, where he’d rolled out a large piece of paper.
“This,” he announced proudly, “is my map of the creek!”
Anne wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a fully detailed expansive rendition of what must have been a really large area of land, complete with notations of inhabitants, activities, landmarks, and literally anything else one could find to write down, had not been it. She gave a low whistle of appreciation. Man Marcy would’ve loved this.
Craig beamed at her show of awe, allowing himself a pleased, “drew the whole thing myself” before asking, “So, where do you wanna see first?”
---
After that, Anne was pulled around the creek to all sorts of locations, each one more intricate than the last. There was an entire colony of kids in these woods, a civilization even. Even on Amphibia she had never seen anything quite like it. It was wild, and, kinda cool? The more she saw the more she started to get what Craig meant. The whole place had its own feeling to it that didn’t quite mesh with any of the surrounding area. After a while, she was even able to push (most of) the weight that had been on her shoulders for so long to the back of her mind.
Which wasn’t to say that her time in Amphibia left her completely. In all likelihood it was more inclined to have already made her a primary target for whispers and gossip to all the kids there. Though she never would’ve expected it before she’d gotten flown away from earth so long ago, she was kinda an expert at being in the woods now. Though she did slip up once or twice. For one dangerous moment there she was mortified that everyone would think she was insane when, upon being shown to the trading tree she had casually remarked,
“I don’t see why you need a whole place to trade for snacks when there are so many perfectly good bugs to eat out here.”
In her defense, she also preferred a good bag of chips over tiny dirt critters, but what could she say, she’d gotten used to a lot of weird things. While her immediate first reaction upon the words escaping her mouth had been to play it off as a lame joke(especially considering the way all the kids stared at her, some in horror, some in awe, at least one clearly wondering to themselves why they didn’t think of that first, the clearing totally silent save one kid who apparently didn’t get the memo and loudly exclaimed something Anne thought sounded like “my candy!”) her backup plan ended up being totally unnecessary as J.P. just started laughing, confidently proclaiming,
“I told y’all, she fits right in here”
And sure, maybe that made Anne smile just a little bit.
After that they had a few more people to meet, including a few girls prancing around a big open field, one of whom blushed slightly as she informed J.P. that she liked his leaf, to which J.P. gave a cheerful giggle and a thanks. (Anne considered it one of her foremost signs of character development that she didn’t break out any magazines as soon as they got back to the stump). But eventually things started to wind down, and the trio of friends, along with their new straggler, made it back to the little home base.
Anne took a few minutes to discuss the finer points of exploring woods with Craig, who had been eager to talk about it since they’d gone out earlier, while out of the corner of her eye Anne watched Kelsey do mock battle with an imagined enemy.
“You know, my little brother is much better at this stuff than I am, maybe you’d like to meet him sometime?” Though she’d posed the question to Craig, she didn’t bother to wait for an answer, as she saw Kelsey perform another made up sword move, and something occurred to her. “Hold that thought.”
Walking over to Kelsey, Anne continued to watch her form, confident enough based on where she was swinging and where her eyes were trained on that she had a pretty good idea of what the fake enemy the other girl was fighting might look like. Eventually she offered,
“You’re pretty good, but if you’re fighting something that much bigger than you, you’re gonna want to switch up your strategy a little bit.”
Without waiting for Kelsey’s reaction Anne grabbed a stick off the ground and performed a demonstration of a few moves she’d picked up in Amphibia. Though sword fighting was never something she had expected to be proficient at, she couldn’t deny that at this point she’d picked up a decent amount of skill. Once she’d finished her quick combo demonstration she turned to where Kelsey was standing, a little surprised to see a look of pure awe on the younger girl’s face, before she shouted,
“YOU KNOW HOW TO USE A REAL SWORD??????”
Anne grinned sheepishly at her excitement. “Uhhh, yeah, a little bit I guess?”
She’d barely gotten the words out before Kesley was on her, begging her to show more moves or better yet, spar with her. Anne waited for the tirade of excitement to slow down before smiling and offering,
“Sure I guess I could, but honestly my little sis knows way more about this fighting stuff than I do. If you want someone to practice with she’s your best bet. I could bring her out here some time, if you’d like.”
Kelsey’s excited nodding was interrupted by an instrument Anne couldn’t quite place, and suddenly the smaller girl’s shoulders fell in disappointment, before immediately perking back up again.
“That’s dinner, but you can bring her tomorrow! I’ll see you then!”
She waved goodbye as she rushed off, as did J.P. though with considerably less rushing, leaving just Anne and Craig, who seemed to also be on his way out. Anne figured that was just one more of the natural ways of the creek. As he left, though, Craig paused for a moment.
“I’m not sure where your special place was, but this is a pretty good one for a lot of kids here. I hope you had fun, I know we did. See you around Anne?”
Anne could tell the last bit was phrased as a question, and she paused to think, if only for a moment. Sure this was no Amphibia, and sure a lot of the stuff that had happened since Craig had tumbled out of those bushes was pretty weird. And maybe she did feel a little guilty that she was off playing around while her friends in Amphibia were, well... But still, for the first time since her birthday, Anne had gone one day where she actually felt like the 13 year old kid she was. Sooner or later she could blow their minds with magic powers and frog siblings, but for now, she was just Anne, she was just a kid. She gave a grateful smile.
“See you around, Craig of the Creek.”
26 notes · View notes
brandstifter-sys · 3 years
Text
Sonnets
Word Count: 2144 (Ao3)
Pairing: Dukexiety with some Creativitwins
Rating: T+
Warnings: Sexual themes, brotherly angst, talk of death
Roman finds a journal and assumes it’s Remus’ but when Remus says it’s not his Roman leaves him with it, so he has some time to read. Little does he know what will come from perusing that book.
-----
Remus was chaos, he didn't bend to anyone else's rules unless he wanted to. Almost nothing was off the table for him—gore, violence, monsters, pain—but he had limits. Don't steal Janus' hat when he isn't holding or wearing it, because an angry Janus meant silence, or worse being silenced and alone. Never ever get too gross with Patton, because he will scream and cry and flash those hideous puppy dog eyes! Stay at least 6 feet away from Logan or suffer through a lecture on how little influence the duke held. Never let Roman hurt himself so bad he can't heal. And never ever read Virgil's diaries. 
Remus was happily throwing shurikens at a large canvas with paint balloons, having fun despite only hitting the ones filled with red. It was just a little annoying to only have one color on a solid white background, and even more annoying when it was Roman's colors staring at him. Roman hadn't been much of a good brother in the past few years, and it stung to think about how they drifted apart. How almost everyone ran from him to Roman. It hurt to be so lonely. 
"Greetings, Your Disgrace!" Roman said as he entered the castle atrium suddenly. Remus threw another star that lodged itself in the canvas with a splash and a thump, and grinned manically at the unsettled prince. 
"Well if it isn't MacBetty himself!" Remus said and cracked his neck sharply, "What hell did I probably unleash on you today?" 
"Don't flatter yourself," Roman scoffed and held up a black journal with sparkling green trim, "You left this in the common area." 
"Did I?" he asked and righted his head with a sickening pop. He was as bad as Roman about collecting cool journals and never filling them, so it could be his, even if he didn't recognize it. Roman handed it to him and crossed his arms. 
"It would appear so. If Logan yells at me for leaving my notes lying about, he will certainly yell at me for yours." 
Remus hummed softly and ran his fingers over the cover, ignoring the jab. The trim pricked his fingers as they glided over it. It was a nice journal, but definitely not something he conjured up. He supposed it might have been a gift, but that would mean someone made something for him—someone other than Janus, and maybe just one other side, but he remembered every gift Virgil ever gave him.
"He likes to yell. Are you sure this is mine?" he questioned, still learning the rise and fall of the trim.
"I assumed, considering the design. I don't like to open other people's journals," Roman answered. Remus knew he was scared of leafing through it, probably expecting some security monster popping out the second he opened it. He didn't blame him for that one, but it stung nonetheless.
"Me neither, but now I'm curious!" Remus laughed and opened to a random page. It was all hand-written poetry. Interesting!
"It's a poetry book! Wanna hear one? It could be a hint!" Remus wiggled his eyebrows. Roman let out a short sigh but went tense. 
"I have other things to do. I came to drop off the book and now I must depart. Farewell." Roman bowed and sank out with flourish. He left far too quickly for comfort.
"Love you too, nice seeing you again, don't be a stranger," Remus pouted and went back to his room, too bummed to paint anymore. 
  He rose up and flopped on his bed with the journal open. Some angsty poetry might make him feel better. He got comfy and let his eyes traverse the page
My mouth is dry Sugary sweet and kind Choking me with my own tongue Out of everything, that saccharine isn't a lie
Remus pursed his lips. That one was really short, and with the talk of lies, he had to wonder. Was this actually Roman's? Did he want to share this with him covertly? Remus bit back a squeal at the thought and kept reading with some hope. 
Lost in translation Obstinate and selfish Get over yourself Avoidance builds pressure Never any quiet when you snap
Remus giggled, knowing exactly who that one was about! Someone pissed the author off! And he knew that that person pissed Roman off a lot! He turned the page, expecting to learn more about this author, believing they could be his brother wanting to reconnect. He was a little surprised to find a skull doodled in the corner but brushed it off.
I want to pull him from the shadows and into my heart Will he see me? Will he disappear if I reach for his hand? Am I blind and staggering in desperation? Someone like him would be better without me Someone like him deserves someone better No star deserves to succumb to a black hole
That one hurt. Remus wiped away the tears forming in his eyes. He knew that feeling all too well. The one side who made him want to obey, the side that made his heart flutter like the bats in his tummy—that side was his best friend and then he left. He missed his partner in crime and he wished that Virgil would come back, just for a visit, and spend time with him again. But that wasn't happening and he had a whole book to read about an author he could really connect with, Roman or not.
He went through several poems that were angsty and angry, full of self-loathing. With each piece he read, the more he doubted it was Roman. The language wasn't formal enough and it didn't match his style at all! It was good stuff, most of it, and Remus kind of hoped the real author would be willing to collaborate with him. He liked this guy.
Like the sun overhead, you're on fire The big man has a little golden boy Pompous and cruel with haughty desire Which one of us are you gonna destroy?
Darkness and shadow that cannot be lit Overshadowing you to make it stop Use that hubris to land another hit I'll keep fighting until the curtains drop
You think you're Hercules when you're so weak Rise like a phoenix Icarus, just try  Maybe you'll learn what it means to be meek Until that day you won't see me cry
I will rain on your parade every damn time Stopping stupidity is my worst crime
Okay so that one threw him for a loop. It would take a few minutes to piece it together. Remus decided that he could assume it was about Roman this time. Princey loved the classics and he had a pet phoenix. This author had some beef with him! Remus hoped for more anger at Roman with the next poem, because he certainly had enough pent up with the snobby, best-friend stealing, always got the spotlight prince. He didn’t get that catharsis, he got more than he bargained for.
I find comfort in breathing in his scent Even if his hands are mine for tonight If he asks, I don't know where his clothes went What I'm doing is wrong but it feels right
If I close my eyes I can taste his kiss A dream in a nightmare clouding my mind Hearing my name on his lips would be bliss To pin him down, our fingers intertwined
I long to stare into piercing jade pools So he thinks of me while I stake my claim I want him to never want to let go I always thought that love was just for fools But on his green sash, love, or something, came I almost regret that he'll never know
This was definitely not a book the author wanted to share. Remus was pretty sure that his face was going to melt off. Now he really wanted to figure out who wrote these! Someone actually liked him like that at some point! It definitely wasn't Princey in that poem—Remus still had the sash mentioned! He was just the tiniest bit turned on, but most of his hype went into his famous wiggles.
"You're so dead!" 
Remus jolted up and beamed. Virgil never stopped by anymore, so when he popped up threateningly, Remus was too happy to care or put the pieces together.
"And how do you wanna kill me? I have some suggestions!" he sang and shimmied. Virgil scowled and crossed his arms. 
"Have Janus wipe your memory and give it back." 
"What, the book?" Remus questioned and held it up. Virgil snatched it and held it to his chest protectively. Remus' eyes widened in horror.
"You wrote all that?! And I read it!? Oh no no no no no! I had no idea—I'll get Hisster Myde and scrub it away with steel wool! Dammit I am so sorry, Sca–Virgil!" Remus yelped and got up to pace. His only rule about Virgil, broken! The only rule he wanted to follow—tarnished!
"Were you about to call me 'Scabby Doo' again?" Virgil scoffed, hiding the fear and hurt he felt. 
"No, 'Scare Bear,' something kinda cute but that’s not important right now!" Remus answered, "I read your stuff without asking! I might be a crazed Camus Stranger boy, but I have some standards!" 
"Remus. Breathe. You're gonna wipe this trash from your memory and it'll be okay," Virgil tried to soothe him, only for the duke to go rigid. 
"Trash!?" Remus snarled and spun on his heels and marched up to Virgil until the lumbering emo hit the wall, confused and scared. 
"It's not trash! I know trash! I eat it for breakfast! That book holds some of the best stuff my critical creative ass has read in ages!" Remus snapped and glared up at him with a fire in his eyes. 
"What?" 
"Those poems are great! I was gonna find the author and beg on my knees like a needy subby bitch to collab with him because holy shit! I felt something with each one!" 
"Even the one with the skull doodle on the page?" Virgil squeaked, his face a beautiful shade of red. Remus smiled sadly. 
"Yeah, that one hit a little too close to home. I got all teary eyed. Thinking about it now after reading that saucy sonnet, it really hurts!" 
"I uh—" Virgil stammered, "I'm, uh, 'm sorry for the sash and the whole—"
"If you apologize for anything else I am going to lip wrestle that apology away!" Remus cut him off, "Because dammit, Virgil, I love you, even if you don't feel the same way anymore. No more self-hate and no more doubting yourself." 
"Puppy," Virgil said and finally took back some control, guiding Remus back and having him sit down, "I can't promise I'll be able to stop that completely, but if you can stand a little bit of it, I wouldn't mind making that collab a date." 
"Really!?" Remus grinned making Virgil's eyeshadow turn purple, "Can we paint too? And watch scary movies? And make out? And then try and woo each other with some dark prose until one of us caves and asks the other to be his boyfriend? And then f—" 
"Yeah," Virgil cut him off and pressed a finger to Remus' lips, "Except for the part about caving. Will you–I mean, only if you want to, would you–and it’s cool if you say ‘no’ since things might be a little weird but—”
“Band-aid, Emoraptor!” Remus cut him off, like he used to do back in the day when Virgil started down one of his nervous tangents.
“Maybe be my boyfriend now?" Virgil said quickly and winced.
"Yes!" Remus cheered and dragged Virgil into a hug, tumbling on the sheets, "Loom over me like a cypress tree and stay with me until I taste death for a night." 
"Stay here and cuddle until we pass out like touch starved gremlins? Only if you visit me in the abyss until this world calls," Virge mused and wrapped his arms around the duke, curling around him protectively. 
"And then the next," Remus hummed softly and kissed his hand, “But you’re always in my dreams!” Virgil buried his face in Remus’ neck and smiled against his skin. Who would have thought that they would wind up here?
Roman sat on his bed and stared at the collage of pictures he had on the wall. In the very center was an old drawing of him and Remus in front of a castle. He sighed wistfully and stared at it, admiring Remus' work. He hoped that sneaking into Virgil's room was worth it—he wanted Remus to be happy even if he couldn't provide that joy. Maybe one day he’d be able to, but until then, he hoped he got his best friend and brother together to make some amends if not more.
157 notes · View notes