#he has NOTHING post 3rd semester | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

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rikorene · 4 years

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐢. // ushijima wakatoshi [reader insert]

[ a/n: AAAAAA i was actually surprised when it blew up, and i was like “what? ppl actually read this shit?” and i got soooo manyyy requests and asks of when i would post the 2nd part, and TADAHHH here it is! sorry for the long wait >< ]

genre: angst, fluff (if u squint really hard)

note: this is you 2 years later, so you’re a 3rd year in this part hehe

[ part 1 : 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢. ] [ alternative universe ]

the city lights were enchanting as the snow continued to fall onto the gray pavement on which you stepped on, with each breath you exhale a soft and subtle cloud of smoke came out of your lips and disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

tokyo was a beautiful place. as a person who lived in the miyagi prefecture, tokyo has never failed to amaze you. even if it was busy and overwhelming, the golden city lights were comforting. to you, it was beautiful.

looking back on the last week of your last semester in your first year, never had you thought that your life would change over a phone call. an opportunity beckoned you to come to tokyo as soon as you started your 2nd year of highschool, you didn't have a reason to stay anyway. transferring to a new school and adjusting to its cultures and such was draining, but you had met people that were able to put you back on your feet and fit in real quick.

with those eyes of theirs that oddly resembled a cat's and those mischievous smiles and smirks of theirs gave you a new comfort of home, one that was new, one that was consistent.

you were lost deep in your thoughts, not noticing a tall man whom you've been friends with since your first week in tokyo jog up next to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"oho? you seem to be lost in thought huh?"

with a wide grin on his face, kuroo let go of you as soon as you looked up at him with a smile.

"just admiring the city lights, something that you obviously can't appreciate." you said with a playful eyeroll and jabbed his stomach with your elbow lightly.

he dramatically wheezed for a second before catching up with you once more. it was an over the top reaction, but knowing kuroo for 2 years now, it was normal for him to exagerate such things.

"oh how you deeply wound me from the inside out~" kuroo whined with ridiculous expressions and it made you laugh, somehow, kuroo reminded you of a certain lanky red head in miyagi. but you would always dismiss the thought stating that kuroo is kuroo, not him or anyone. he's just himself.

"such a drama queen." you muttered loud enough for kuroo to hear you and he just snickered, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. the two of you were headed to the gym near nekoma to meet up with the rest of the players from the volleyball team and head out to eat.

you weren't their classmate, except for kuroo, yaku and kai. you just got close to the team because of the three idiots that you've grown to love. soon enough you both had reached your destination, you heard voices inside the gym as well as the sound of volleyballs hitting the walls and floors. you peeked inside and saw familiar sweatshirts and you swore that your heart dropped.

kuroo raised his eyebrows in surprise to see your old school's volleyball team in tokyo and coincidentally in a gym near their own school, he turned to look at you to see that you were surprised as well. it didn't take long for him to remember your history with the volleyball team, more specifically, your history with their captain.

before he could pull you away from staring too much, a red head took notice of your presence and practically ran over with his arms wide open as he yelled out your name, alerting his fellow teammates.

and with that, you and the one and only satori fell to the ground next to kuroo who just grimaced at the scene. the other third years, jin, semi, reon and yamagata came over to see you and pull tendo off of you.

they all greeted you, considering that you were a mutual to them and a former student of shiratorizawa but the second years and first years were looking at you in curiosity, wondering how you were so familiar with the third years.

from the other side of the gym, ushijima stared at you, his eyes were wide and his whole body was frozen, still gripping onto the ball that he held onto. he still remembered the comforting aura that you had, the way how your eyes would shine in awe as you had talked to the others, the smile on your plump lips that he used to adore.

his heart ached at the sight of you, for years he had regretted his decision deeply, didn't have the courage to go and find you. tell you that he was sorry and that he wanted you back.

but he knew it was all too late, it was a selfish decision he had made. back when you still went to shiratorizawa and had to leave as soon as you entered your second year, he wanted to come up to you and apologize. for months he would push himself harder as a punishment for letting you go.

after a few more moments of hesitation, he walked over to your side, where you happily chatted with the third years and continued to entertain them with their questions and inquiries about what's happening in your present life. soon he came to a stop behind tendo who was in front of you.

tendo felt a looming presence behind him and looked over his shoulder to see ushijima's stoic expression "eh?~" he made a sound of playful questioning but stepped aside, allowing ushijima to see you clearly.

you looked at ushijima, he still looked the same. but you slightly winced when you saw his eyes staring into yours and then you remembered the way he looked at you that night, it was a cold and harsh stare, saying that he didn't want to see you anymore.

you swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled up at him "hello, ushijima." you said, and in an instant, kuroo sensed the tension in your voice. he would step in, but not yet. he wanted to wait for the right time.

"y/n." he replied, slightly disliking the way you called him by his last name instead of what you usually called him, his first name. but what could he do?

he lost you.

"kuroo! y/n!"

the voice of yaku broke you out of the small staring contest with ushijima, making you and kuroo turn your heads and look at the whole team just outside of the court, a few feet away from the two of you.

"y/n, let's go." kuroo said, looking over at the third years who stared back at him. you nodded and turned to them once more giving them a sheepish grin and bowing your head slightly, kuroo turned his heel and walked out of the gym, you looked at ushijima once more and took notice of his eyes.

'you look sad.'

you jogged up next to kuroo and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, he turned his head sideways to give ushijima a small glare as he walked towards his teammates and left.

that night ushijima laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and reminiscing the times where you would usually sneak in and snuggle with him just before the sun would come up.

he still loved you, after months of realizing how stupid he was to let you go. ushijima was surprised when he heard that you left and went to tokyo to grab the opportunity of having a better life. he didn't mean to actually let you go.

it was foolish.

he wanted you back, but what could he do? nothing. he laid in bed, not noticing the tears falling from his cheeks and onto the sheets.

he still remembered the way you begged for him to say the words 'i love you' even if it was meaningless. if he had begged to you say it to him right now, would you do it? even if you didn't mean it, it was fine.

he wanted to hold you once more, even if it was all false. to kiss you again even if you didn't really mean it. he wanted to be with you again, but he knew that it would be pointless. as much as he wanted to beg.

he lost you.

and finally, he turned to his side and dreamt of shy smiles and warm e/c eyes.

part iii.

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the-rodent-gentleman · 2 years

Photo

OK, this moodboard is going be a little different from the others, not just because it’s platonic this time but also because I packed this one with an analysis beneath the cut.

For clarifications on why I did this, I feel plenty of emotions for both of these characters and feel a look at their commonalities is overdue. That and I’ve been inspired by ideas a Persona 5 x Steven Universe crossover I’ve got sitting around in my drafts.

For one, the doc and our star-boy both have an approachable air about them, and are big awkward dorks who want to help others, though it’s not farfetched to assume part of these affable personas are manufactured on their part to help put strangers at ease, Maruki more so.

Second, Maruki and Steven are both an interesting case of simultaneous selflessness and selfishness in that they genuinely wish happiness for the people around them yet at the same time are self-sacrificing to detrimental extremes in order to quell their abysmally low self-esteem.

In the bad ending of Royal where you accept Maruki’s fabricated reality, for instance, keep in mind that because everyone’s desires have been fulfilled, there was never any need for you and anyone else to require Maruki or his counseling services, meaning you don’t know him in this new world. In fact, given Rumi’s memory loss still being ‘canon’ and his own ‘I don’t care about what happens to me’ mentality, no one in this new world remembers him. He doesn’t even have a character portrait anymore in that ending, let alone a specific name. He’s merely ‘Man Wearing Hat’.

As for Steven, there have been multiple occasions where he asserted the idea it’s okay if bad stuff happens to him as long as nothing bad happens to anyone else. Now while this sounds self-sacrificing (which it is), our marshmallow boy has had a habit of not only going overboard with his decisions but thinking he knows what’s best for everyone. For instance, his and Barbara’s steamrolling Sadie into being a singer in “Sadie’s Song” with good intentions but no thought to her feelings; or, more significantly, his blasé disregard for everyone’s feelings, especially Connie’s, in the wake of his return from Homeworld post-abduction in Season 4.

In that same vein of thought, there can be a heavy-handedness in how they go about helping others (Maruki especially) since their attempts hinge more on ‘fixing’ people’s problems rather than helping said people confront those problems themselves. Maruki has a propensity for manipulation that is evident in Royal, especially in the 3rd semester, but so does Steven, even for what he deems benevolent ends—his actions in “Restaurant Wars” and “A New Lars” are notable examples.

In his defense, Steven has grown to have more tact in that regard as he’s shown the decency to apologize when his plans to help don’t pan out (like when he apologized to Lapis in “Alone at Sea”) or when he actually has to do something similar to a bad thing he’s done before (like when he asked Lars for permission to enter his portal hair following Lars’ death in “Off Colors”.) We never hear Maruki give an outright apology to Sumire and the other Thieves, but the expressions he makes after you beat Adam Kadmon seem to display some regret.

Both have suffered traumatic experiences – Steven more so in terms of quantity but still – yet did not seek help immediately.

Considering Royal happens at all, it’s safe to assume Maruki had not seen a therapist about his issues either. Same with Steven since Future happens at all to begin with, which brings me to my next point: both tend to keep their problems deep under wraps. It’s more explicit with Steven who ever since the “The Test” had developed the habit of burying his negative feelings, but the videos in Maruki’s Palace confirm that our counselor has been hiding deep pain over what happened to Rumi and her family beneath his cheery exterior for years.

Possibly the saddest part of all, both Maruki and Steven possess a degree of self-hate that only exacerbates all these prior aspects.

For Steven, this stems from not only misplaced martyrdom (wanting to help others no matter what cost to himself or regardless of whether it’s his place to begin with) but continual association with misdeeds that were never his to begin with, whether by his choice or (more often) not.

It’s far more implied for Maruki and therefore could be considered a reach by some, but I believe the lookalike Shadows in his Palace indicate it.

During the base game, these Shadows are out in the bright areas; but during Royal they have been relegated to the darker, more ominous storage areas. In a similar vein, we only ever see the real Maruki in dimly lit areas far removed from the bright happy areas populated by his patients. In addition, the Maruki Shadows can respond to spotting your character by unzipping their own bodies to reveal a monstrous form a la Alien to attack. (Monster Steven, anyone?)

Now there might be other similarities I haven’t touched on or other bits of evidence that I didn’t present here, so if there is feel free to say so.

At the same time, we also have to keep in mind some of the ways these two differ not only as individuals but in terms of those around them.

For starters Steven has a support system—not the best overall or always most conscientious, let alone one he’s let himself make consistent use of, but it’s there—while Maruki lacked even the bare bones of one, considering we only ever see his friend Shibusawa making a direct effort to ask how he is.

Furthermore, Steven’s isolation is compounded by his loneliness as someone straddling existence as both a human and a Gem (not helped at all by how his family tended to mishandle this aspect of him, especially in the early seasons) whereas Maruki’s isolation is implied to be mostly through choice (‘mostly’ is the keyword here due to Yaldaboath’s implied influence during the Day of Reckoning).

On an ironic side-note, Maruki’s abilities and means befit more what many had envisioned how White Diamond’s powers would function than how they actually did in canon does: actual full-on brainwashing rather than mere possession. Hell, up until the final boss fight in Royal, the doc even wears full-on white throughout his palace.

With all these comparisons, part of me wonders how much of Maruki’s flaws and issues stems from events before the incident with Rumi because even though we know next to nothing of Maruki’s life before that, we can extrapolate. In one of the diary entries found in his Palace, he calls himself ‘a lowly researcher’ when discussing meeting Rumi’s parents. Now granted others have argued that all this self-defamatory talk in that one journal entry could all be attributed to nerves, but I genuinely believe he’s had low self-esteem even before he met Rumi. That could imply self-deprecation is a habit of his considering this comes from a journal entry, something private.

In fact, I have to wonder if Maruki might have experienced parentification and neglect growing up like Steven did (without all the alien invasions and nearly dying in space of course). The former would explain how he became such an attentive listener as well so keen on ensuring others (Rumi and his patients for example) are always provided for, much like Steven. Both would tie in well to his self-imposed isolation, especially during the 3rd semester.

Honestly, I can see Steven making easy friends with him, although how they interact could differ.

Depending on where he is in his canon’s timeline, Steven could easily accept Maruki’s reality, not for dissimilar reasons as Sumire (i.e., wanting to be someone other than his real self). Not only because of the chance to be free from all that trauma and self-negativity, but also because he gets where Maruki is coming from perfectly. There are so many cruel and unfair things that happen to people and oftentimes there’s no way to undo the damage done.

On the other hand, post-canon Steven could recognize the toxic pitfalls Maruki is falling into because he’s been down that same path too – and is still trying to break away from. In which case, he could easily side with the Phantom Thieves in wanting to stop him.

Even if they weren’t to meet during the events of Royal, they’d still have much to relate with each other in terms of handling trauma, struggling to be more open about their issues, and reevaluating how they express compassion and aid to others.

At the end of the day, neither of these two are bad guys, just two guys that need to get their shit together better (and maybe some snacks for comfort).

#Steven Universe #takuto maruki #persona 5 royal #analysis #crossover #moodboard #seriously these two could make good friends

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aprilyroseee · 3 years

Text

Caste Heaven - chapter 30 ✨ (spoilers and summary)

Hey! 🌝 Chapter 30 came out on saturday. This time I couldn't buy the magazine because it's not available for purchasing. The photos are not mine but belong to a chinese girl who posts them on Weibo, a chinese website (here her account).

The chapter has 32 pages, but these images only cover part of it. While waiting for the whole chapter, I tried to sum up what happened. Let me first say that it's not accurate but reworked, so it's not meant to be the official translation.

Incipit: According to the forecast, it looks like this winter will be particularly harsh. "Help". The message Azusa sent to Karino thinking he could rely on him. Azusa's broken heart, who trusted him but was betrayed.

The chapter starts with Atsumu and Kuze walking to school. Atsumu clears his throat so Kuze asks him if he's caught a cold. Atsumu: "No, it's just a slight sore throat". Kuze gives him a cough drop and after thanking him, Atsumu tells him to go ahead.

The scene shifts to school. It seems that class 2-1 won first place at the cultural festival for the event they organized, the photo shotting in cosplay. However, the tension in the classroom between the higher and lower ranks hasn't changed. Azusa enters the classroom and some basketballs bounce at him (the work of his silly classmates). He grabs a ball and strongly throws it at Karino. Azusa: "You all are a bunch of fucking maggots swarming on dead meat". Mizobata shouts "Bastard!" but Karino stops him. Atsumu thinks something happened between Azusa and Karino. [If you notice, Azusa has a bandage on the left side of his forehead.😔 ]

Later on, the final grades of the second semester are published outside of the classroom: while Tatsumi is still at the top of the 3rd year, Karino doesn't seem to be in the list of the 2nd year, which means his grades dropped. Karino is called by the teacher, who tries to understand why his grades have fallen. Karino replies he hasn't been very well during this time but he'll work hard to make up for it.

After that, it's Azusa’s turn. The teacher asks him why he failed the test (as he didn't score any points) and at this rate he's in danger of flunking out. Azusa nonchalantly replies that he's not interested in graduating from college. The teacher: “Society is not a piece of cake as you think” and Azusa: “I'd rather die than become an empty person who depends on a title. I won't rely on anyone. I'll live only on my own." Azusa has no longer hope of relying on anyone, not even on something like a degree because he has completely withdrawn, he doesn't want anyone's help to move forward. The teacher tells him to choose at least one of the supplementary classes, for the sake of his parents.

Azusa leaves the room and sees Karino sitting outside. They look at each other for a second but then Azusa looks away.

Karino grabs him by the hair and asks “Are you ignoring me or what? Don't you understand unless I tell you?”. Azusa: “If you wanna do it so badly then go ask Eno!! After all, you're well-matched.”. Karino surprised “Hah? What's that dude got to do with it?". Azusa replies "If you get hit by maggots, you're gonna rot, you know. I'm saying that maggots always end up mating together……like at the cultural festival”. Karino doesn't understand and says “Are you still thinking about that cultural festival stuff? Something worthless". Azusa lowers his head. "I knew it. It's just a way to kill time for you. I shouldn't have believed in you from the start."

TW: rape

Karino gets pissed off and pushes him, making Azusa bang his head. Karino says not to blather at random because a feckless like him doesn't know anything. "Damn, stop it!!". Azusa slaps him and Karino says "I'll make you remember your place".

He brutally rapes him. Azusa thinks “It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!!!!". It's so painful that he's about to cry and he bites his lips.

He trembles and then collapses. Karino looks down on him.

Clenching his fist, Azusa replies: "I'll never forgive you. Just you". His expression is full of hatred. 💔 Karino leaves the room and throws a punch at the wall. "Oh, Karino?"...

It's Eno who asks what he was doing and in the meantime tucks the shirt inside Karino's pants. "Azusa-kun again?" and Karino replies "Why I was with him?". "That's right!! Your social caste is too different!”. Eno places his hands around Karino's neck and says: "I understand. A person who stands above others is alone. Nobody knows/understands it. If it were up to me, I would understand that loneliness."

The scene moves to Tatsumi and Komagome Kagura, the "Brain" of 3-5, Eno's class. Tatsumi and Komagome leave the Student Council classroom together. Tatsumi says that Komagome seems to be the only person in his class who hasn't a relationship, or something going on, with Eno. We discover that Kagura and Eno were in the same primary school. That's why Eno was upset by Kagura's behavior in chapter 29. He says Eno was an ordinary child at the time, but then they drifted apart. Tatsumi asks what happened and Kagura replies that Eno has changed over time. People change and are influenced by the environment, it's inevitable. But Tatsumi says he knows a guy who doesn't let himself be swayed, no matter what. (not really like that but I don't understand a kanji because it's blurry). Komagome: “Ohh? I want to meet him” and Tatsumi: “Shall I introduce him to you next time? But he's extremely cheeky”. The two of them stop at the sight of Eno. Komagome says "It's Eno, troublesome". Eno walks with his arm on Karino, saying "You with me, Kohei?". Tatsumi stares at them stunned.

Last scene of the chapter: Atsumu is walking in the hallway after the meeting with the teacher and notices Azusa crouching with his face down. Atsumu looks at the blood on his shirt, but when he tries to get close, Azusa yells at him “Don't fucking touch me!!! Don't you dare touch me at all, I'll kill you!!". 💔 💔 💔

Shortly after, Kuze reaches him. Atsumu hugs him and says “I am weak. Despite everything, I'm still tied to this caste. I'm not able to do anything even if a person I care about is hurt”. “I wish I was stronger”. "Atsumu..."

End of chapter. So sad and hearbreaking, even if it’s nothing that I didn't expect. (ಥ﹏ಥ) I would like to make a post about my impressions and my own analysis of it later! 🤯

#caste heaven #manga #yaoi #boys love #spoilers #summary #i'm sad #karino why you idiot #i can't stand azusa suffering anymore #please hold on baby

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botanicials · 3 years

Text

wish this was the full part, but here is a sneak peak of falling in love at a coffee shop. the first few rough paragraphs. coming soon! littles will be posted until then ❣️

falling in love at a coffee shop

i. (sneak peak!)

October 13

The cold NYC wind is forgiving for once, all things considered. You had just spent your evening watching over seven sugar high eight-year-olds that had decided finger painting was the ideal after school activity. It was laborious at times and their parents probably weren’t too pleased, but the kids were happy.

Your phone is warm against your cheek as you walk, owing to the Disney Favorites playlist you were asked to play- and Eloise skipping nearly every song that wasn’t sung by Elsa or Moana. Your mother’s words are insistent in your ear: plane tickets, dinners, graduation details.

“It isn’t for another… what? Four months? We’ll figure it out.”

You hear your mother sigh. “I’d rather plan everything out now, the end of the year brings me enough stress as is.”

“It-“

“And what is it with your graduation ceremony being in January? Such an odd time. I mean, right after the holidays? Don’t they realize we might want a bit of a break?”

You laugh lightly at that, eyes spotting the familiar rusting sign hanging up ahead. “Um, has to do with my hours and the kids’ semester ending. I don’t know. Tickets should be cheaper, they usually are after Christmas.”

“Suppose that’s a positive.”

“Definitely a positive- I’ll call you later, I’m grabbing some food so I can hurry up and get home. There's an apron covered with paint in my bag and I’m convinced it’ll stain everything I have inside.”

You begin to unwrap your scarf from your neck as you near closer to the mahogany red door, turning to push it open with your side. “You put an apron covered in paint in your bag?” She sounds incredulous.

“It’s rolled, mom. I’ll call you later.” You repeat.

“Soon.” She says, and you hum before finally ending the call.

A gust of warm air hits the chilled skin of your face when you enter, along with the strong aroma of brewing coffee and a hint of vanilla. You move quickly to close the door behind you, not wanting to disturb anyone with the reality of what they’d have to endure once they leave.

“Welcome in.”

Your eyes follow over to the voice that called out, to catch him take a quick glance at you before turning to meet your eyes again.

He’s not much taller than the familiar college students that work here, but judging from his shoulders, his build is clearly much larger. Atop his wool baby blue sweater is a- definitely used -burgundy apron you’ve seen time and time again. Who you haven’t seen, however, is him.

Once his eyes flicker to the new customer in front of him and back to you, you realize that you’d completely ignored his greeting. And hadn’t moved from the door?

You find yourself sending a clumsy smile before moving across the hardwood floors to stand in line behind the short balding man repeating his order.

Your phone is in your hand a moment later, needing a distraction as to not ogle at the pretty green-eyed barista any longer. Your thumb instinctively lands on Instagram, as much as you wish it hadn’t.

A selfie of an old friend from high school.

A photo of someone’s newborn. The third you’d seen this month.

The conventional food flat lay.

You hear the man in front of you make a second order of two dozen bagels for a big meeting tomorrow morning. “Hoping for a promotion,” he says, a clear smile in his voice. You silently wish him the best. With bagels from Coldwell’s, he was bound to make a good impression.

You’ve been coming here since the beginning of your junior year, finding the cozy café to be a home away from home. You’d discovered it after moving out of your dorm, it was an unmistakable upgrade from the campus coffee shop you were forced to visit every morning.

Thick floor to ceiling windows on one wall, exposed brick and a menu on another; coupled with the bulbous string lights, numerous plants hanging from the ceiling and perched on shelves with the occasional vintage record.

There were unspoken sections inside; couches and low tables for group study sessions, a line of comfy booths along the back for brunches and dates, a few tables with mismatched wooden chairs for those who’d rather spend some time alone. It was always clean and well kept, and during Christmas, it smelled of nutmeg.

Depending on which barista had their phone connected to the speakers, the shop was either playing Spotify’s Chill Lofi Study Beats or smooth jazz, both welcomed by the regulars that filtered in day-to-day.

You hear the last drop of the bagel slicer when your phone buzzes faintly. Milo: We should go for breakfast one morning. When are you free? :) That message alone was enough for you to stuff your phone into your bag. Jesus Christ.

You watch the man’s scuffled loafers as he makes his way out, the arm free from two large boxes lifting to wish his barista a good night. Speaking of, he’s got a welcoming grin on his face when you step to the counter. There was no doubt he was recalling your odd entrance.

“Hello.”

His eyes are bright, they remind you of a dewy morning in a garden - and you wish you were in the right state of mind to watch him the way he was watching you. “Hi, um”, your eyes fly up to the menu as if you weren’t sure of exactly what you were getting. “Are you still selling those bottled fruit drinks? I usually get them in the morning.”

“The Pressed ones? Got a few in the back but I’ll grab one for you. What flavor?” You take a second to inwardly scold yourself for focusing too hard on the way he’d flavor, there was no second-guessing on whether he had an accent or not from moments ago.

“Blackberry,” you say, sending a small smile.

He taps at the screen of the POS, his lips tucked into his mouth as you reach into your bag for your wallet.

Not there. No. Not that pocket either.

You frown.

“So, a blackberry Pressed, anything else?”

Your head is nearly inside of your purse as you move your belongings around, cautious of smearing Crayola paint anywhere. “Please, a blueberry um...”, you flip the apron to stick out a bit and allow you more room to see, careful not to squeeze it too hard, “bagel?”

A beat of silence.

“You sure?”

Your head snaps back up to find the barista- Harry, his name tag reads, it suits him -smiling at you, teasing.

You laugh at yourself a bit before buttoning your bag closed. Your wallet was nowhere to be found; which would frighten you if you hadn’t already left it in the classroom twice this week. “Yes-. Yeah, sorry my brain is like, fried from studying.”

“No, yeah totally get it,” he says. Tot-ally.

You find yourself contemplating on whether you should tell him to completely scrap your order or give in and finally figure out how ApplePay works. He scratches at his chin. “Erm.. cream cheese?”

You have some at home. “No, thank you.”

He nods and you take a glance at the tiny hoop earring that catches in the overhead light as he does. You’re just about to resume digging in your bag to check one more time, when he surprises you by saying something that isn’t your total. “What are you majoring in?”

You readjust. “Education. I want to teach 3rd grade.”

“Do you?” His smile is wide and you notice the dimples that sink into his cheeks. Because of course, the guy has dimples.

His genuine happiness takes you by surprise and you laugh. “Yeah, I graduate this year. Well- hopefully. Still have to pass my finals.”

He’s still tapping at the POS- definitely taking much longer than normal, but you don’t mind. Thankfully you had nowhere to be for once.

“M’sure you’ll do great.” You smile, despite the fact that his eyes were still on the screen in front of him. “I um, I graduated just last year,” he looks up to see your eyebrows rise in question. “Film.”

“Film?” you repeat. “I.. Honestly, I can see that.” The earring, the eyes, his style. It made sense.

Tap. Tap. You catch the price going down.

“That because I’m working at a coffee shop?”

“That- What? No, no. I-“

He lets out a boyish giggle and shakes his head. “Only joking. That was a bit of a dig to us film majors, hm?”

“A little. It just makes sense,” you continue. “You look like a film major.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a compliment,” you say, and his lips twist to fight a smile.

“I’ll take it,” he says, slipping a glove onto his left hand. Your eyes immediately take notice of the cross etched next to his thumb. “Total comes out to $3.21. I’ll go grab your-“

“You didn’t have to do that.” You’ve ordered this countless times, and though Anne let you have your things for free when no one else was around, it’s always come out to $6.78.

Harry only frowns, shaking his head. Don’t worry about it. “I’ll go grab your drink.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

The second he disappeared into the kitchen you’ve seen so little of, you quickly lift your wrist to try and figure out how this stupid watch worked.

You told yourself to test this out at some point, but you just haven’t had the time. The pad of your figure taps and swipes against the tiny screen, nothing screaming pay with me!

Not that app.

Not that one either.

Had you even set it up?

You hear the door smack lightly against the wall. “Alright here’s- oh,” Harry stumbles upon return, eyebrows drawn together. “Did the card not work? There’s a chip at the bottom-“

“No, I was- I left my wallet at work and I’m trying to..” You point at the card reader. “Does this have Apple Pay?”

His eyes flicker between your watch and the reader before nodding. “Yeah, you’ve just got to..” he leans over the counter a bit and his hand hovers over yours. “May I?”

With confirmation, his nimble fingers press lightly into the inside of your wrist, tilting it toward the reader. His touch is soft- he’s excessively gentle despite only adjusting your hand. He moves his thumb to double click a button on the side of your device, the palm of his hand brushing the side of yours.

The both of you look up at one another, eyes meeting in much closer proximity than any time tonight.

You can’t possibly pick up a guy at a coffee shop. Right?

Ding!

You look down at your wrist that’s still in his hold, your tiny screen now displaying a successful checkmark.

He swiftly pulls his hand away, the gloved one quickly grabbing your bagel as the other grabbed a waxed baggie. “Sorry-“

“No, thank you.” You can’t help but let out a clumsy laugh at the moment the two of you just shared. Silly, you think to yourself.

“To go, yeah?”

“Please.”

He smiles, eyes focused on the screen before the printer hums to life and begins to spit out your receipt.

You watch as he works the bagel slicer and toaster without conscious thought, large hand pulling off his glove before taping the flimsy paper to the front of the bag. He’s sliding your items over to you to grab when you speak once more.

“And thank you again, for the discount.”

He only shakes his head, lips turning down into a funny looking frown. “Don’t worry about it, really. Good luck on finals.”

You smile gratefully, managing to hold your juice and bagel in one hand as you make your way back over to the door. “Thank you! Have a good night.”

“Bye, love you—“ He practically chokes on his own spit, turning quickly to cough steadily into the crook of his elbow.

You were halfway out of the door when you heard him, and now you stare, amused as the cold wind nips at the left side of your face. “Love me?”

“I-“ His nose crinkles, and he coughs one last time. “Sorry, I-“ You watch as he visibly relaxes once his focus is back on you and not on trying to breathe correctly.

Your head is tilted to the side, an obvious glint in your eye.

He lets out a breathy laugh before trying to continue. “I don’t-” Your eyebrows rise as he stumbles. “- love you. I just- I say it to friends a lot and I guess it… slipped? I don’t know-“

“I’m teasing.” You call out over the wind that blows through as you push the door open wider. You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you move to leave. “Don’t worry. Bye, Harry.”

147 notes · View notes

liaarchived · 3 years

Text

Heather

Inspiration: The song Heather by Conan Gray

Pairing: Kuroo x Reader, Kenma x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Insecurity, Toxicity, my shit writing😀

Word count: 4.8k

A/N: Hiya!! Honestly not sure how I really feel about this one. It was definitely self indulgent bc I’ve been OBSSESSED with this song lately. The ending went a little different than I intended. I hope you all enjoy <33

P.S ~ I tried really hard to make this gender neutral so if I missed anything or slipped up somewhere please lmk and I’ll fix it right away!!

You still remember that night like it was yesterday. It was the 3rd of December. You were in your first year of college, Kuroo in his last. Kenma was there too. But he was being his usual quiet self and even left early that night.

You all had gotten into The University of Tokyo coming out of Nekoma. During your first year at Nekoma High, you were asked to be the manager of the boys VBC. Having played Volleyball in middle school but suffered from a knee injury your doctor advised a break from any sports, you quickly accepted, still wanting to be involved with the sport one way or another. That’s where you met the odd pair. It took you by surprise that the intimidating looking VBC captain was actually a big ol’ softy and that his best friend was none other than the quiet and antisocial setter, Kenma Kozume.

You were like their baby sibling. Always needing their protection whether you wanted it or not. Nothing much changed when the oldest graduated. He would always meet up with the 2 of you after classes, often walking you home. When it was just you left at Nekoma it was still the same thing. The two boys would meet you at the gates of school and walk you home before heading back to the campus dorms.

The day you graduated the 3 of you celebrated with a trip to Miyagi to visit your friends from Karasuno and party. A few of them had gotten into The University of Tokyo themselves and would soon become your classmates instead of rivals.

Fast forward back to December 3rd of your first semester of college. It was Thursday night. Tradition stood that you, Kenma and Kuroo always spent the afternoon/evening after a long week of classes together. You were all fortunate enough to be supported by your parents so you didn’t have to worry about part time jobs.

It was a chilly night, more so than you expected it to be. Kenma had just left, mumbling something about needing to edit and post a video to his YT channel. You and Kuroo bid the gamer a goodnight but stay out. Neither one of you were quite ready to call it a night just yet. Spending time alone with just Kuroo had always made you a bit nervous. You didn’t know why, you had known the man for almost four years now. It’s not like his company is a foreign concept to you, it was just usually accompanied by Kenma. In all honesty you really knew what it was but you never let yourself entertain the idea.

But that night was different. The moment Kenma left the whole vibe changed. The aura went from light to tension filled. You immediately began to wring your hands together as the two of you sat on a bench at the park closest to the dorms and Kuroo’s apartment. There was supposed to be a meteor shower that night. You had seen a handful of shooting stars but nothing tremendous yet. You were starting to feel disappointed after looking forward to this all month and still not getting the shower you imagined. I mean you’re an astronomy major for God’s sake. You get extra credit in 2 of your classes if you come into class next week with proof you watched the meteor shower.

You huff as another wave of shivering wracks through your body. Your shivering doesn’t go unnoticed. Kuroo has always had a sharp sense for little details and your shivering was no exception. He took a glance at you from the corner of his eye, trying to be as subtle as possible. You’re wearing a long sleeve thermal and a thin jacket.

“Baka, why didn’t you wear more layers?” Lucky for you, Kuroo, under his hoodie and thicker jacket, was wearing a thermal under a long sleeve. So he didn’t mind shedding a layer to share it with you.

You pout at the rooster haired man with a red nose and chattering teeth. “I- d-didn’t realize it w-was gonna be thi-s cold-d.”

Kuroo pulls off his old VBC hoodie that has the word “captain” and “Kuroo” right underneath written in small lettering on the breast and hands it to you. You stare at it for a moment too long. “C’mon. Take it. You need it way more than I do right now.”

You huff but take the sweater anyway. Kuroo chuckles.

“Thanks.” You mumble while taking off your jacket and pull the sweater on. It’s warm from Kuroo’s body heat and it smells of cinnamon, like him. You sigh in satisfaction as you put your jacket back on. “Thanks, Tetsu.”

“You already said that. Plus, it looks better on you than it does on me anyways.” He shrugs but the blush that creeps onto his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed by you. You’re a little stunned by his words. Sure, Kuroo has complimented you before but never on your appearance. That always seemed to be something that he steered clear of and now you know why. Your heart skips a beat before quickening from his simple yet loaded words.

You look at the large man with shining eyes and mouth slightly agape. When he looks back at you he swears the whole earth stops turning for a moment. He could cry from how adorable you look in his sweater. Practically swimming in the large piece of fabric. He doesn't know what it is about you lately, but he’s been noticing that ever since you graduated, maybe even a little before that, there was something about you that made you a constant thought in his mind. He finds himself thinking, more often than not, about how soft your lips look or how you would feel in his arms.

Those very thoughts were flooding Kuroo’s mind at that very moment in time and he realized a little too late that he had been leaning in closer to you while thoughts of you ran rampant in his distracted mind. You had noticed it. His slow descent to close the space between the two of you. The way his head dipped so that you two were eye level, the slightly glazed over look in his hazel orbs meaning he was overthinking something.

You let your voice squeak out in the form of a question. “Uh… Kuroo? What’s wrong?”

The large man snaps out of his reverie and stares shocked at just how close you are. He licks his lips, mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Then he makes a split second decision, he’s going to indulge himself and his thoughts for once. He’s going to be impulsive, not think about the possible consequences of his actions.

“Can I try something?” Kuroo’s deep voice comes out low and breathy.

Your heartbeat quickens for the second time tonight and you can’t seem to find your voice, so you simply nod your head. At your silent permission, Kuroo cradles your jaw into his large calloused hand. His face moving further to close most of the space left between your lips. You can feel his warm breath fan over your features. A nervous knot forms in your stomach but your chest is bursting with excitement.

“ ‘M gonna kiss you. That okay?” Hazel meets e/c. He patiently waits for your permission once again. You nod but the cat-like man shakes his head.”I need to hear you say that it’s okay. Please.”

You swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat and clear it away. “Yeah. I- I think I would like that, Testu.”

Kuroo didn’t need any other confirmation. He leaned in the rest of the way and your lips met. The kiss was sweet. It wasn’t long or particularly passionate. But… it was nice. His lips were slightly chapped from the cold weather but still soft and warm. He knew how to apply the right amount of pressure too, just enough to let you know his actions were meant. When it’s over you barely separate from each other. Surrounded by a cloud of your warm breath, Kuroo Chuckles.

You hum dazed, waiting for him to say something. “Didn’t realize I wanted to do that so bad. I hope that was okay?”

You steal a glance into Kuroo’s eyes. His gaze is steady and earnest. But still, somehow, something feels slightly off. “Neither did I.” You mumble in response.

The rest of that night was spent in each other’s arm stealing kisses and glances from one another. It was almost perfect.

Almost.

After that night, the two of you spent more time together alone. Kuroo would casually kiss you on the lips or even makeout with you here and there when you two were in situations where Kenma wasn’t there,when you were alone. But if Kenma was there he would keep his distance. This went on for the rest of your first year.

You let the seed of hope that was planted that first night you kissed, grow into a certain type of adoration that was held only for romantic partners. You cared for Kuroo in a much deeper way now than you had before. You had always found the large man attractive sure, but you found your other best friend, Kenma, attractive as well. You were never directly attracted to them. Until now. It felt like your attraction to Kuroo coursed through your veins and traveled throughout your entire being. Each day you spent alone with him brought you closer to thinking the two of you could be more than friends.

Second year of college was when everything changed. You and Kenma had a computer science class together. You were minoring in it. You wanted to create programs that tracked the stars and planets and you knew that if Astronomy didn’t work out, as it often didn’t, computer programming was an easy career to get into and something you actually quite enjoyed.

Lucky enough Kuroo had a class next door to yours at around the same time as you two so you all decided that you would walk to and from that last class of the day together. It was the end of the first day of classes that you saw the shift. You and Kenma were let out of class early for the first day and sat directly outside, waiting for Kuroo. His class was let out early as well so you didn’t have to wait long. You watch the students all shuffle out, eagerly awaiting the presence of your point of attraction. When his tall frame finally appears in the doorway it was accompanied by a much smaller one.

She’s smiling at Kuroo with brilliantly white and straight teeth. Her lips are full and naturally pink. Her stunning smile reaches her large blue eyes, which are sparkling with genuine interest. Her cheeks are dusted with a rosy tone, letting you know that she’s interested in Kuroo. Then you notice Kuroo. His smile is wide and there’s this look in his eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. The two stand off to the side, not even noticing the pair waiting for the dark haired student. You observe them as the girl laughs at something Kuroo said and her whole being lights up brighter than the blue sky. Your stomach drops when her hand lightly falls onto Kuroo’s shoulder and a blush creeps onto his features.

You feel sick to your stomach. How could you compete with someone like that. She was stunning, gorgeous, beyond pretty. How were you supposed to compare to someone like that? You couldn’t. There was no competition in your mind, she was miles above you and no amount of time would ever allow you to be on the same level as her.

Kenma was doing some observing of his own. He had been for the last 6 plus months. Kenma isn’t stupid and his time playing volleyball as a setter proved that he was actually very sharp and extremely observant. Kenma had seen the way you had started acting around Kuroo and it pissed him off because it was obvious that whatever was going on between the two of you, was one sided. Kuroo had no intention of taking things further with you, at least not anytime soon. But still, the large man was spending a lot more alone time with you than he had previously in your 4 year long friendship.

Kenma watched with his blood boiling as your heart began to crack and it made him want to punch Kuroo right in his face. The idiot still hadn’t noticed the two of you. He was in his own little world with this strange girl. He was totally oblivious to the shattering of one of his best friend’s hearts.

Having had enough, Kenma calls out to the rooster idiot. “Kuroo. We’re leaving. You can come if you want but I’m sick of waiting.”

Kuroo gave you two a look of shock, it was clear that he was just noticing you two for the first time since walking out of his classroom. “Ah. Uh- yeah. Just give me one sec, yeah?”

Kenma crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance but doesn’t move. You both watch as numbers are exchanged between the two classmates. Then the girl turns to the both of you. “Sorry for stealing your friend from you. I didn’t realize you were waiting for him. If I had, I would’ve cut the conversation short. Thanks for being so patient. Bye Kuroo. I’ll talk to ya later. Bye Kuroo’s friends.” With another heart stopping smile and wiggle of her fingers the stunning girl walks off.

Kuroo watches her form disappear before granting you his attention. He didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. He smiled widely but you noticed very quickly that he wouldn’t meet your gaze. For the rest of the day Kuroo spoke about his new friend and didn’t once look you in the eye.

Over the next few weeks Kuroo found every excuse to either bring Kenma along to hangout with the two of you or to not hangout at all. He wouldn’t shut up about the girl in his class. You had learned that her name was Heather. She was studying abroad from America but her father was born in Tokyo, Japan and lived here until he was 18 years old. So she spoke fluent Japanese with little to no accent. She was also very sweet and as much as you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

Heather became a constant after that. She was now a friend too. Kenma got along with her but he was still reserved around her for your sake. In all honesty Kenma didn’t care for her. But he knew that she had to be special to Kuroo if he was willing to do whatever it is he did to you for this Heather girl. So, Kenma forces himself to play nice. The gamer has always had an extremely soft spot for you. He couldn’t quite explain it, he’s never been very good with emotions but he did know that you were extremely special to him.

Everything came to an all time low a few months after adjusting to life with Heather in it. You were all meeting up at Kuroo’s for a movie night. You decided to go a little early to get some things off your chest with Kuroo. You missed the friendship you had with him before everything and wanted to at least clear the air so he could stop avoiding you. You knocked on the door softly and waited a few minutes before knocking again, a bit louder this time. You heard a noise come from inside. Worried for your friend you fish out the spare key he gave you for emergencies and enter his apartment.

A big mistake. The second you enter, the whole apartment is filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin and strangled moans of Kuroo’s name falling from a familiar silky voice. Heather. They were here, in Kuroo’s apartment, having sex right before movie night. You’re frozen in place with your hand still stuck on the door handle. You’re slow to process what’s happening but the second it all settles in you feel the familiar sting of tears welling up in your eyes. You refuse to let them fall until you get the hell out of here. Quietly leaving the way you came in, you cross the threshold of Kuroo’s apartment leading to the hallway of the building. It takes everything in you not to slam the door shut. You don’t want to alert the couple that someone had heard what they were doing.

The moment you have the door shut you run. You almost make it to the entrance without encountering anyone but then you run into someone, causing you to lose your footing and fall on your ass.

“Y/N?” Kenma’s soft voice breaks through the fog of your brain.

You look up at faux blonde as you finally let the tears stream down your cheeks and neck. “Kenma-”

You sob. Unable to get any other words out you reach out to him like he’s your lifeline and he takes you in his arms. “Let’s go.” It’s all he needs to say. He leads you to his car, knowing full well that you walked here from the dorms less than a mile away. Trusting Kenma 100%, you stay silent and let him take you to wherever it is he’s going, assuming his apartment.

Your assumption is right as you pull into the familiar parking garage. You pull out your phone which has been buzzing with messages in your pocket. You check and see it’s Kuroo, Heather and Kenma in the groupchat.

You hadn’t realized while reading, Kenma had gotten out and went around the car to open your door for you. The second he sees your screen he sighs. Gently, he takes your phone from out of your grasp and tucks it into his pocket. “You don’t need to read that right now.”

He’s right of course. You’re still a mess. You have tears streaming down your face, your nose is red and runny, and your eyes are puffy and red. Your sweater sleeves are wet from rubbing away your tears. You can’t even imagine what other people would think of you if they saw you right now. Crying over a guy that was never really yours? How pathetic. You think to yourself.

Kenma tugs you out of your seat and shuts the car door behind you. The gamer doesn’t let go of your hand until you get into his apartment. Even then, he only lets go of your hand to hold you in his arms on his bed while he lets you stain his sweater with fresh tears. You’re not sure how long you stay like that but it’s dark out by the time you calm down.

Kenma was furious. At one point he began to cry himself. Words could not describe what Kenma wants to do to Kuroo for causing this. The two of them were supposed to protect you from heartbreak like this. Yet here you were sobbing, pouring your broken heart and soul out in the form of tears, because Kuroo had strung you along and tossed you aside when he’d found something he liked better.

You whimper a few times before going silent. Your face is buried in Kenma’s now very wet chest while you fist his sweater pocket. You let yourself just breathe a few times before forming coherent thoughts. The first words to stumble out of your mouth are raspy and barely audible. But Kenma hears them nonetheless.

“ ‘M sorry.” It’s slurred and you hiccup immediately afterward, drunk from the dehydration caused by your prolonged crying.

Kenma’s grip on you tightens. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

You whimper in response. He’s right of course. Logically, you shouldn’t be the one apologizing. But in your mind it was your fault for letting yourself fall for one of your best friends in the first place, when you felt- knew- nothing would come of it.

Kenma sighs sadly. “ You need to eat something. I’ll order a pizza while you take a bath. It’ll help. You can borrow one of my hoodies and a pair of underwear. I’ll wash what you’re wearing so you can put it back on in the morning. You know where everything is.”

You nod your head and slowly make your way to the bathroom. Kenma was right, funny enough, a bath is exactly what you needed in that very moment. You wash away the now crusted over salty tear stains from your eyes and cheeks and mucus stains from under your nose. Your eyes are tired and still pink rimmed and puffy but other than that, you look much better than you did when you first entered the bath. You take a moment to just relax in the steaming hot water before getting out and towel dry yourself. You wrap the towel around your body to keep your modesty and exit the bathroom. You can hear Kenma ordering food in the living room. You're thankful that he was giving you your privacy. Not even chancing the sight of you in a towel.

Luck for you, Kenma has a surplus of oversized clothes. He’s always expressed how oversized hoodies and shirts just make him feel more comfortable in his skin. You pull on a pair of Kenma’s boxer briefs and let yourself get swallowed by what you thought was a plain black hoodie. At second glance you notice the white B on the left sleeve cuff and the hood. You smile to yourself. Grateful that your longtime best friend has been so successful in life. This hoodie being a reminder of that very success.

You keep the hood up and trudge over to the living room where you find Kenma quietly sitting on the couch, hands clapped together with his cell in between them. Kenma is slouched over with his elbows resting on his knees and chin resting on his fingertips, he seems to be in deep thought. You clear your throat and Kenma’s eyes immediately shoot up to you.

“Sorry. Was just thinking ‘bout something. Pizza should be here soon. How was the bath? Made you feel better?” Kenma still seems distracted but his attention is on you.

“Yeah. The bath was nice. Thanks for letting me borrow some clothes. What were you thinking ‘bout?”

“What happened with Kuroo?” Kenma takes a deep breath almost as if he’s calming himself down. “And I don’t just mean today. I mean what’s been going on the 6 months before Heather that led to what happened today.”

You sigh. You let a few moments pass to gather your thoughts before spilling everything to Kenma. You tell him about the first night, after he had left. Then what had been happening the 6 months after. Kenma listens intently. He feels himself becoming increasingly angry with himself and with Kuroo. They both let this happen. Kuroo directly and Kenma indirectly by not saying anything.

“I thought we… I thought there was something there and then Heather just wedged her way in. I-I can’t even bring myself to hate her, Kenma.” You send the faux blonde a sad smile while smoothing your hand over your head and let it rest at the back of your head. “She’s just so sweet and perfect. She’s such an angel. But then again, kinda wish she were dead. And that makes me feel like shit. I’m such a terrible person for feeling like that. The worst part is she hasn’t even done anything to me. It’s not her. I should be mad at Kuroo. I should hate Kuroo. But I jus-”

You breathe in a shaky and shallow breath before continuing. “I can’t. He’s one of my best friends but I feel like I'm losing him even as a friend. I get it. I get that we weren’t meant to be. I’m fine with that. The thing is he’s been acting so cold towards me ever since she came into the picture. I don’t know what to do! He won’t even let me talk to him! I went over early today because I wanted- needed to talk to him! I needed to clear the air between us! But instead I walked into his apartment and heard him having sex with Heather!” You wipe at your eyes with the sleeves of the sweater Kenma has loaned you. You become increasingly irritated with yourself. Why did this have you so worked up? You weren’t even that broken about it anymore. You truly thought you were moved on from this. But the thought of Kuroo being intimate with someone else without so much as just talking with you snapped something inside of you.

“I thought… I thought he respected me more than that. I get that I’m not even half as pretty as her. I get that I’m not as good of a match for him. I get that he’ll never be in love with me. But before whatever the fuck we had going on started, we were friends. As his friend I deserve to be respected. Right, Kenma? Am I wrong?” You feel desperation rising up from your chest like bile. Your word-vomit spewing out without reason. You’re not even paying attention to what you’re saying. But Kenma is. He’s holding on to every word like his life depends on it.

You’re ready to continue but Kenma can’t bear the thought of you voicing any more doubtful thoughts you have of yourself, so he faces you completely and carefully but authoritatively holds your face in his hands. “Ken-”

“Stop. I- just stop. Kuroo is a dumbass. We’ve known that for years. But this a new level of idiocy. And you. Stop that, stop putting yourself down. You’re the most beautiful human being I have ever laid eyes on and Kuroo is intelligently inept if he can’t fucking see that. She is not prettier than you, she is not smarter than you- Hell she’s not even as good of company as you are.” Kenma didn’t expect to be this affected by your words, but he was. He couldn’t stand the fact that you thought you were inferior to anyone because that’s not at all how he sees you.

“Kenma…” You whisper. You had never in your 4 years of knowing him hear him speak this way. He was always reserved, calm and quiet but right now he was the stark opposite. He was tugging on his hair, voice raised, and eyes wild with desperation.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything about you and Kuroo. I just let it happen. I should’ve done something or at the very least been there to support you. And god I wish I was better with words, I wish I could tell you- show you how I see you because in my eyes you’re the one that makes everyone else look inferior. You’re the one that has the brightest smile and eyes. The one that has a personality to rival.The one that I… I adore.”

Suddenly it hit you. You knew what Kenma was trying to tell you but didn’t know how to quite express it. How did you not see it? Kenma was always so kind to you and treated you with the utmost respect. To you that was just Kenma, that was who he was, but it really wasn’t. Kenma is blunt and won’t tell you what you want to hear but what you need to hear. Kenma doesn’t like people but he likes you. He frequently bashes Kuroo but frequently compliments you. All the little things he does for you suddenly feel huge coming from Kenma because.... He doesn’t do that for anyone else.

You stare incredulously at your successful friend. He’s blushing and won’t meet your eyes. “Kenma- I never realized…” You laugh nervously and that catches Kenma’s attention. “ I guess I shouldn’t have been so focused on Kuroo this whole time. Am I too late? Did I mess it up?”

Kenma chuckles softly and takes your face into his hold once again, this time a lot softer. “No. You didn’t mess anything up.”

You smile genuinely for the first time in months. “Good. I might need a little more time and to speak with Kuroo, for closure, but if you're willing…” You gaze up at Kenma through your lashes silently pleading with him.

“I’ve waited for you this long, What’s a little more time?”

118 notes · View notes

maxenceandrebisset · 2 years

Note

Fair skin, 168 cm of height, light brown hair and brown eyes with shades of green too. I'm from Poland. In the future I wish to live anywhere but not in my country (political situation isn't good unfortunately). Currently, I'm at my 3rd semester of Journalism at university. My dream job is to be a writer or owner of a bookshop (like that one in Nothing Hill for example).

Beyond Formula 1 I'm totally obsessed with movies. Sometimes I can go to the cinema twice or three times a week. I like to play games on PS4 (recently finished Uncharted 4). I also like learning languages on my own (I started with Italian this year). I speak Polish, English, a bit of Russian but I'm not very good. And I love to watch sport. Since I was a child I've always watched Olympics etc. Personal favourites are ski jumping, tenis, soccer and volleyball.

I'm highly sensitive person. There was and there still is a lot of pain in my life. Been bullied, abused and recently someone broke my heart, so my significant other would have to prepare than I need a lot of reassurance and patience. I'm loyal af, really organised and often too hard on myself. I also notice these little things about people which others ignore. And I can be really cute sometimes ☺

Girl, I understand your wish to live anywhere, but in Poland (am from the Czech Republic, so I know what's going on over at you more than well...)

The two main reasons why I decided to match you with Carlos was the fact that you love sport & that you are a sensitive person seeking someone, who could respect that and help you with that - let me elaborate on these...

- I think that everyone knows that Carlos is an athletic person even outside of Formula One - constantly playing golf with his friends and family, tennis with his father, regularly hitting the gym, and probably a ton of more he just doesn't post on social media - and I do believe that he would really be up to any sort of sport, especially if he could play/do it with you + he would genuinely try to master it since he is quite competitive in anything he does (all the cold-blooded competing with Lando during their golf games)

- This guy plays FIFA on Playstation all the time, so I assume that he wouldn't be exactly lost in the area of gaming either, in the spite of the fact that he definitely prefers real sport, and would be up to spending free time just playing with you on PS4

- Back to the second main reason I matched you with him - Carlos is an extremely kind-hearted and compassionate person, I am not kidding, he can get along with anyone, and even though he might not look like that soft and empathetic kind of guy at the first sight, he definitely is one of the nicest ones on the grid

- Thus I think that he would be able to listen to you, be patient with you and constantly reassure and compliment you to help you gain the self-confidence back - I don't know, he just seems like that kind of guy, who has the most heart-warming compliments when he is complimenting his loved ones

- He is also someone, who, in my opinion, values loyalty in relationship over anything and wants someone who is organized and well put-together - unlike many other drivers, who wouldn't mind a messy, chaotic, and quirky lover

- Has a thing for cute people - just look at Isa and Lando

- You would be one of the most language-oriented couples on the grid as well, which is more than admirable (don't know why, but when people can speak multiple languages it is extremely cool in my opinion) - his Spanish, Italian and English, and your Polish, English, and Russian, just wow...

- You would get to live in Spain or Mallorca with him - truly gorgeous countries, can you imagine having your own bookshop there? Pinterest worthy aesthetics, am telling you that...

#carlos sainz jr #ferrari #formula 1 #f1

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

The Marriage Project (8)

Hello, hello, hello! Here’s chapter 8 after a long break since chapter 7! If you haven’t all ready, make sure you go check out the prologue to Sweet Home Alabama once you’re done here, as I may post the first chap very soon!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2178

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

You hadn’t really told anyone what you’d been doing Sunday, and especially left out the part where you were with Tom.

Once getting home the previous night, you’d quickly taken off your makeup and brushed your teeth before essentially passing out on your bed. You’d also snoozed your alarm enough times that you’d had to rush to school that morning, getting to class with only a minute to spare.

In the afternoon, your friends sat around a lunch table discussing how your weekends had gone.

“Mine was pretty boring. How about yours, y/n?” Caroline asked.

“It was fine. Mostly did homework. Oh, and I took some senior pictures yesterday, but that’s it.”

“Oh that’s why your hair is straight?” someone else asked.

“Yeah, I got home late and woke up late so I just tossed on some jeans this morning.”

“Where even were you? Your snap maps said you were at the lake,” Alexis stated.

To say that question made you nervous was an understatement. You didn’t want to give anything away so you tried to keep it vague.

“Oh, yeah. The photographer knew of a place out there we could go so I said yes.”

“Who was your photographer? I’ve been looking to get pictures done,” Caroline said.

Well, there goes ambiguity.

“Hah, well, Nikki Holland.”

“Isn’t that Tom’s mom?” Alexis asked, squinting at you. You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been at their house a lot for the project and her whole career is photography so she asked me if I wanted her to do my pictures for free. I couldn’t turn that down.

“So that’s why you and Tom were at the same location yesterday!” Alexis exclaimed.

“What! Keep your voice down!”

“So it’s true? You and Tom took your senior pictures together? I was waiting until you’d admit why you were together.”

“Okay there are so many things I need to address but firstly, we did not take them together, we just did them at the same time. And secondly, since when do you have Tom on snap?”

Alexis rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. Everyone else looked surprised and kept quiet.

“Remember sophomore year when I went to that party while you were out of town? And I told you I made out with someone? Well….”

“ALEXIS!”

“I was drunk, okay? By the next day I realized how gross it was, but I kept him on snap so I could keep tabs for when we talked trash about him.”

You folded your arms across your chest and stared blankly across the table at your best friend.

“And you just didn’t think to tell me that you, I don’t know, made out with my mortal enemy and have had him on snap for the past 2 years?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me! Obviously it was the one time, and we’ve never sent each other a single snap. This was about you anyways and how you and Tom spent yesterday together. Where were you, actually?” Alexis asked, looking at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes.

“His grandparents have a lake house, okay? His mom planned the whole thing and the leaves were pretty colors, so it was whatever.”

“Hm, I guess so…” Alexis trailed, giving you one final look of “this conversation isn’t over” before someone brought up a different topic.

With volleyball regionals that upcoming weekend and Tom having an away game, you and he decided to work together that Thursday at his place.

You quickly rinsed off after practice and headed over to his house where he was waiting at the door.

“Took you awhile,” he commented as you came up the sidewalk.

“Yeah, sorry. I got caught talking to coach about this weekend. It also takes forever to get these leggings on right out of the shower,” you joked, gesturing down at your athletic pants.

You got to work pretty quickly as there was a lot to do as compared to normal. By the time you finished, it was almost dinnertime.

“Oh, I think my mom finished all those pictures if you want them. Let’s go find her,” Tom suggested, leading you downstairs.

Her and Dom were in the kitchen cooking together. It was sweet watching them interact.

“Hey, mom? Did you say you had that flash drive done?” Tom interrupted, causing both parents to turn.

“Yes! I’m glad you reminded me. Dom, hold down the fort while I go get that.”

She led you to her office, then dug around her desk until she found it, handing it to you.

“You know, dinner will be ready in probably 10 minutes. You’re free to eat with us tonight,” she offered.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You never impose on us! And absolutely, we always make more than enough food so the boys can take leftovers to school.”

Well if you’re sure… I’ll text my mom and make sure she doesn’t mind.”

She didn’t, so as you waited for dinner, you sat down on a living room couch, Tom taking a recliner nearby. From the corner of your eye you saw Paddy walk in the room and freeze when he saw you.

“Y/n! Lovely to see you on this fine evening,” he greeted, sitting tentatively on the other end of the couch. You held back a chuckle at his word choice.

“And you as well, sir. How was your day?” you asked, trying to get him out of his shell.

His eyes widened as he told you all about his school day. You prepared to reply when Dom came and announced the food was done.

You followed everyone to the dining room and stood watching, not wanting to accidentally take someone’s seat.

“Oh, you can sit here, y/n,” Paddy said, pulling out a seat for you in the middle of the table. You glanced to Tom, who was rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Paddy. What a gentleman you are,” you complimented as he helped tuck in your chair. He took the seat on the left of you as Tom sat on your right. Directly across from you were Sam, then Harry and Dom on either side. Nikki took the head.

“Y/n, why don’t you get what you want first,” Nikki suggested, gesturing over the food. There was spaghetti, salad, and bread. You got only a little bit of each thing, trying to be polite.

“That’s all you want? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you eat more on the bus to soccer games than that,” Tom commented. You raised your eyebrows at him and nudged his knee with yours.

“Thomas! Don’t be rude! Y/n, you’re free to however much or little you’d like. You can always go back for more later, too.”

Dinner went relatively smoothly aside from that, most of the conversation being centered on you as different family members wanted to know different things (Paddy especially as he’d trained his eyes on you almost the entire evening). For the most part, Tom was quiet except to crack a few jokes or answer something you asked him.

As everyone was finishing their meals, you offered to help clean up.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s Tom’s job to do the dishes tonight,” Dom told you.

“I don’t mind helping him. I can dry if nothing else.”

After being reminded a few times that you shouldn't feel the need to, you went with Tom to the kitchen anyways, holding a towel.

“You really don’t have to help me, you know. You’re technically our guest,” he said as the sink filled with water.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do anyways since I finished my homework.”

You worked together pretty much silently, falling into a comfortable rhythm. As you set down the last plate, Tom spoke up.

“Hey y/n, think fast.”

“Wha- TOM!” you exclaimed, as he had shot water at you, making the front of your shirt wet. “Oh you are so dead for that!”

You jumped on his back, pressing your wet shirt against him, causing his own shirt to dampen. He thrashed around, the both of you laughing.

“What the hell is going on in- oh,” said Sam, who entered the room.

You both froze in place, you quickly sliding off Tom as Sam looked at you skeptically.

“Your brother just sprayed me with the faucet, so I was getting back at him,” you tried to convince him. It is what happened after all.

“Right... I was just coming to grab something from the drawer, so I’ll leave you all to it,” he said awkwardly as he dug around the drawer and quickly made his leave.

You and Tom both looked at each other awkwardly before bursting into laughter.

“You know you’re lucky this is a dark shirt,” you said after a moment.

“Am I though?”

“TOM!”

When you got home a little bit later, you decided to plug in your flash drive and look at all the pictures Nikki had taken. You were marveling at her work when your phone started buzzing. It was Alexis.

“Hey, what’s up?” you picked up, confused as to why she’d call on a Thursday night.

“Hey. I saw that you were home so I figured I was good to call. Are you alone?”

“Yes, and why do you need me alone?”

She paused.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry for bringing that stuff up about Tom in front of the girls Monday, but, since I don’t know when I’ll be able to get you alone again, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay what is going on?” You’re scaring me a little.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this, because I know you and we came up with that whole revenge thing at the beginning of the semester but… do you… have feelings for Tom?”

You were taken aback at her question.

“What! Me have feelings for Tom? Are you crazy?”

She sighed.

“Well it’s just that, you two are always together now, your usual bickering has turned into normal banter, and you literally traveled to take pictures with him last weekend. It just seems like something else is there, and the whole school is starting to pick up on it.”

Ironically, you had frozen on a picture of you and Tom from Sunday, one of you standing in your sports uniforms back to back.

“Okay so maybe we’re kind of friends now, but that doesn’t mean I like him! And how many times do I have to say that the pictures were just at the same time?”

“Then explain to me why his mom’s website has multiple pictures of you two together?”

Your blood ran cold and stomach dropped.

“Wait, what?” you breathed, immediately going to pull up her page. Like Alexis said, a picture of the two of you posing was at the top of the home page. It was the same one you’d been looking at before. “Oh, no,” you whispered.

“Are you seeing it?” she asked.

You gulped.

“Yep. But, it’s not that bad, right? I mean she takes tons of sports pictures and we look super serious. It’s not like we’re standing with our arms wrapped around each other or anything.” you rationalized, half joking at the end of your sentence.

“You might want to scroll down, then…”

You went past a photo of just you on the dock railing in your jumpsuit to find one of Tom lifting you over his shoulder, but of you laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

“Are you sure you’ve got nothing to tell me? I’ve had lots of guy friends and most of them don't do that to me.”

“Yes, Alexis, I’m sure. He was getting back at me for something and acted like he was gonna throw me in the lake. I didn’t realize Nikki took any pictures of it. I’ll ask Tom about it.”

“If you say so… I’ll believe you. But you do know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course I do, and I’m telling you right now that nothing has happened or will ever happen. We’re just friends, okay? Now I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?” you finished.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” she signed off, ending the call.

You felt another pit in your stomach thinking about how you’d lied to her. You definitely didn’t have feelings, but why didn’t you tell Alexis about that moment you’d had in his room a couple weeks back, or how you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder Sunday night, or even how you’d accidentally seen him naked?

Because she’d think there’s something there.

But there isn’t.

But..?

You shook the thoughts away as you texted Tom, asking him to take a glance at his mom’s website.

“Omg I have no idea why she used the third picture. I’ll see if she’ll change it” he answered.

You were glad he would save your asses like that, but felt a twinge of sadness for it to be replaced. You almost didn’t mind it being there.

A/N: another long awaited marriage project! I have been working so hard to get this out while going through rewrites and working on sweet home alabama, but hopefully this will hold y’all over for now. As always, thank you so much and feel free to hit up my asks any time!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland story #tom holland series #tom holland au #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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the-lincyclopedia · 3 years

Photo

* adapted from @librajiminn on twitter

A fun game to celebrate 2020 ending! The rules are simple: recommend your favorite OMGCP fics so everyone can enjoy them, while trying to fill in enough slots to get a bingo!

This is going to get long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I’m too orderly to try to shoehorn my favorite fics into these particular prompts, so I’m just going to go right to left, top to bottom, taking the prompts literally, until it’s bedtime.

1. first fic you bookmarked: “Here Comes the Sun” by @doggernaut, 19k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

For the past month, the man with the baby and the sad blue eyes has been stopping in for a cup of coffee an hour before closing. He always sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner and drinks his coffee while his baby sleeps next to him in the stroller. Sometimes he pulls a book out from the diaper bag he carries with him; other times he just stares straight ahead as if in a daze. He never asks for a refill, always respectfully gathers his things and leaves ten minutes before the shop officially closes. Eric desperately wants to ask him what his story is.

My notes: I read Check Please over the course of two days in June of 2019. On the second day, right after catching up, I looked at @peppermintfeminist‘s AO3 bookmarks and found a fic by @doggernaut. Then I read just about everything @doggernaut had ever posted. It was glorious. This fic in particular is so cute.

2. most recent fic you bookmarked: “Flight Check” by @edgarallanrose, 15k, E, no warnings (though there is a creepy/handsy guy at a club to watch out for), primarily Zimbits with most of the other popular pairings in the background

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

My notes: There are a lot of great things about this fic--Jack’s character arc, Lardo’s dialogue, that scene in Seattle--but the reason I bookmarked it is the scene where Bitty’s basically slut-shaming himself and Jack gently but firmly tells Bitty not to do that and that it was the creep’s fault.

3. a fic that made you cry actual tears: “a little bit more” by @ivecarvedawoodenheart, 14k, T, no warnings, Holsom

“I just wanted,” he says, “a perfect day. With you. Because it’s our last day together and our last day being here as undergrads and we’re kissing the ice tonight, and the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, and you’re moving tomorrow and Holtzy I just — I don’t want to be missing you already.” Holster wipes his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. Behind him, Ransom sighs. “One more day where everything’s the same,” he says, feeling around blindly for Rans’ fingers. He feels Rans nod as he laces their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, Rans. I’d like that a lot.” __________________________

Holsom after graduation and throughout the subsequent six months after Holster signs to an expansion team in Oregon, and realizes his feelings for Ransom too late. Holster's POV :) kinda angsty, but there's a happy ending :)

Inspired by shitty-check-please-aus: "Holster moves to Oregon while Ransom stays on the east coast. The time difference makes it difficult to talk and one day they wake up and realize they aren’t best bros anymore."

My notes: I almost never cry at fics. I searched “tears” in my fandom email account and only a handful of my fic comments came up, but Syd is a literal master of Holsom angst, always.

4. longest fic you’ve read: “Like Real People Do” by @xiaq, 153k, M, No Warnings, Kent Parson x OC

Parson gestures with his spoon toward Hawke. “So am I allowed to ask about the service dog or is that not PC?”

“My medical history is more of a 3rd date conversation," Eli says.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because. No one sticks around afterward and I like to live in glorious denial for a short period beforehand.”

It comes out more self-deprecating than he intended.

Parson looks…thoughtful. “Well, does this count as one or two?

“Pardon?”

“This. Ice cream. I mean, technically it’s a second location, but still the same night. So is this one date or two?”

“One,” Eli says firmly. “If it’s happening within the same three-hour period.”

“You’re the expert,” Parson says, which, he’s really, really, not, but ok.

“So still two dates to go then?” Parson continues.

“I—what?”

“We’ve got a roadie coming up but then we’re home for almost two weeks. When does your semester start?”

“You want to do this again?” Eli asks.

Parson stops idly twirling his spoon.

“You don’t?”

He does, Eli realizes. He really does. Because apparently he actually likes Kent fucking Parson.

My notes: Okay, this fic has my whole entire heart. I’ve read it multiple times in its entirety, and it’s almost twice as long as the full-length novel I’m querying. Eli is one of my favorite OCs I’ve ever seen in a fic (probably tied with Damian Navarro and Ari Paxton, both brainchildren of @fozmeadows). Anyway, this is probably going to be the next thing @themeaningoflifeischeese and I read out loud to each other.

5. a fic you almost didn’t read: “when all else fails (i’ll still be right here)” by @whoacanada, 6k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (and I don’t remember if I think there’s stuff to warn for, sorry), Zimbits

The National Hockey League is resurrecting the Quebec City Nordiques, and the expansion draft hits the Falconers much harder than expected.

My notes: Given that this was for @omgcpheartbreakfest, I was worried this would be all angst--all hurt and no comfort. Which made me sad, because I love @whoacanada‘s writing but I wasn’t up for reading unresolved angst. But @doggernaut reblogged the fic, so I asked if the ending was sad, and it’s NOT! There is quite a bit of angst but the ending isn’t sad.

6. a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before: “it drops with the gravity of rain” by @geniusorinsanity, 16k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (attempted sexual assault by an OC), Nurseydex

It happens like this:

“I don’t--this is a bad idea,” Dex says, his lips still tingling, his hands shaking on Nursey’s hips where he’s shoved him away. “This is a really bad idea, Nurse. I can’t--We can’t do this.”

And there’s hurt in Nursey’s eyes and his bottom lip is swollen from Dex’s teeth, but he says, “Okay.” And then, “It’s chill, Dex. Just friends, then.”

It happens like this:

“Actually,” Nursey says, talking more to his granola than to them, “I kind of have a date.”

It happens like this:

When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

My notes: So I was really confused and a little disturbed when I first found out people shipped Nursey and Dex. Like, Dex just wasn’t someone I trusted. But then I was moving out of the house I’d been living in, and I needed stuff to listen to as I packed and cleaned, and @khashanakalashtar‘s podfics came in clutch. I gave this one a try even though I didn’t like Dex, and @geniusorinsanity blew. My. Mind.

7. a fic from an unusual POV: “Excuse Me While I Kiss This Guy” by @porcupine-girl, 8k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

Jesse Snowden knows all the best restaurants and gourmet food shops in Providence, so when Jack Zimmermann starts bringing in incredible baked goods, he's eager to find out where the new bakery is. When he meets the man behind the pies, he decides that there's no way Jack could really appreciate this guy's talent the way he does, even if they are friends. He starts hiring Jack's chef on the side, in the hopes that maybe once Bitty's done with college he'll come work for Jesse.

Good thing there is absolutely no way whatsoever that Jesse could possibly be misinterpreting this situation.

My notes: Oh my gosh this is so funny. The secondhand embarrassment factor is huge, but like, the hilarity.

8. a comfort fic: “Don’t Need to Compromise” by @khashanakalashtar, 11k, E, no warnings, PB&J

“Hey,” said Kent, unknowingly setting off a chain of events that would change his entire life, “you said that like you know from experience. Have you done this before?”

Jack and Bitty have not done polyamory before, but they do know Ransom and Holster’s polycule, which contains March.

And March?

March is trans.

My notes: I’m in love with @khashanakalashtar‘s entire Directionverse series (and honestly a lot of their other writing), but “Don’t Need to Compromise,” which is the second fic in the series, just makes my heart swell especially much. The gender feels are so good, and all the characters are so good to each other, and when I listen to this on walks I have to actively try not to arm-flap.

9. a fic you wish could be a movie: ��Ice Crew Please!” by @petals42, 61k, T, no warnings, Zimbits

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

AKA: The Ice Crew AU

My notes: This fic has its tender moments, but what I love most about it is the sheer goofiness. Ransom and Holster and Shitty are HILARIOUS in this one. I’d love to see their shenanigans in movie form.

10. a WIP you read as it was updated: “Something Borrowed” by @fozmeadows, 48k, M, no warnings, Kent x OC

All things considered, Ari did his best to prepare himself for the advent of Kent Parson, Potentially Difficult Housemate and New Star Liney. The problem was that his best was an idiot.

My notes: So technically I didn’t start reading this until the first 19 chapters were posted. But there was still plenty of anticipation for the final few chapters. And like, @fozmeadows (as mentioned above) makes EXCELLENT OCs. And I love how their fics consistently convey that having bad things happen to you does not mark the end of your story.

Okay, it’s bedtime, so have 10 excellent fics. I got bingo twice, because I went straight across on the top two rows.

#mine #omgcp #omgcheckplease #check please #fic recs

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