#I actually should’ve been there next year but I was a dumbass and booked a plane ticket too fast | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

httpbread · 4 years ago

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pairing: mikaela hyakuya x reader

words: 3921

i havent written anything coherent in. some time. also this wasn’t a request but mika is my all time favorite character. my HEART requested this.

"Do you and (Y/n) have some weird staring contest that no one knows about except you?"

The question is so sudden, so out of the blue, that he looks away from the aforementioned soldier only to find himself squinting up.

His target takes a step to the side, blocking the sun from his view, but he still blinks a few times before he can clearly make out the boy.

"What on earth are you talking about?" despite no longer staring at the sun, this sight also makes his eyes narrow unhappily.

Much like the sun, Yuichiro smiles down at him brightly. Much more toothily. Though, thankfully, Yuu also didn’t make him burst into flames, which was also a plus in his book.

However, maybe not so much right now.

"You and (Y/n)," he says, his voice uncharacteristically low, further adding to Mikaela’s growing suspicion about this conversation, "What else?"

He says it so casually as if they were discussing no more than the weather. But Mikaela knew damned well this went deeper. A sense of deja vu padding in the from the corner of his mind.

So, albeit reluctantly, he leans over to the boy, but he doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, his ruby gaze leaves Yuu to return home where they had been and often were.

Thankfully, they’re none the wiser about what’s happening, still sitting a couple of yards away from them, their hands animatedly gesturing before them like their life depended on it as they explained something to the Hiragi settled across from them.

He says, very quietly to Yuu, "Did Shinoa put you up to this?"

To which, Yuu responds, just as hushed, "If I say yes will you still tell me?"

He fights back against the small upwards tug of his lips at his friends’ reliable antics as he sits up straight again. Always so honest.

"Mika?" Yuu quickly worries, his voice growing a little higher in pitch as he begins to clumsily backtrack, "I meant- no. Shinoa didn’t say anything. It’s me. I’m asking. Why would Shinoa ask?"

"So, Shinoa did say something?" He muses, mostly just to mess with the ravenet.

As if to further stir the pot, the lavender haired leader’s eyes briefly flicker over to them, coming dangerously close to meeting his own gaze, before focusing back on the soldier before her.

(Y/n) doesn’t notice this occurrence either, now making an odd motion that made Mikaela’s brows draw. Their face is a little intense now as they try to clearly convey their point. One hand was splayed out flat and the other made a swirling motion above it. Mikaela briefly wonders what they were rambling about this time.

"Fine, fine," Yuu huffs, drawing his attention again but not enough to make him look away, only continuing to watch the pantomime of the (h/c) haired individual, "Shinoa maybe- uhm, sort of, shined a light on your problem."

At least, he continues watching her until those last words reach his ears, making Mikaela abruptly turn, "My problem?"

Yet, Yuu only grins at him, happy as ever, meeting Mikaela’s gaze with those big emerald puppy dog eyes without a care in the world, "Yup."

Mikaela only offers him a displeased look rather than an actual answer.

The only problem he had was that Shinoa was poking her nosy little nose where it didn’t belong, directly in Mikaela’s personal business.

(Y/n), on the other hand, was never a problem.

As long as they were smiling- and they often were- he was sure everything was right in the world. Over the months they had spent together, getting stuck in confined spaces, shoving back to back during combat, and even bickering with each other on the rare occasion, Mikaela could probably even write an entire guidebook on how to properly handle and care for the individual.

He was still considering the silly handbook idea when he found himself looking at a familiar shade of (e/c).

(Y/n) was looking at him, he realized, and judging by the teasing nudge Shinoa gave their shoulder this wasn’t something they had originally thought of.

Despite this, their strawberry lips curve upward at the corners to give him a toothy smile. Their (e/c) eyes twinkling as they hold his under the warm sun shining high above them.

They lift a smaller hand and wiggle it at him.

Mikaela does the same, subconsciously smiling back at them, but only a smidgen.

Mikaela had many problems, but not (Y/n) and that was certain.

However, an elbow suddenly burrowing between his ribs does add to this list of dilemmas, "Oooh! Did you see that? They’re looking at you!"

The sudden rise in Yuu’s voice makes him return the favor, except he’s significantly more gentle, "I would have never noticed."

Even though Mikaela is sure they couldn’t have heard his grumble, he watches the way their eyes light up, the hand they were waving at him with quickly darting up to muffle their laughter.

It makes his heart soften the same way it always did, ready to slip through the cracks of his rib cage like slow dripping honey.

However, Yuu nearly knocking his head into Mikaela’s forces him to divert his attention to the believed idiot next to him as he all but theatrically whispered to him- hand cupped around his mouth and everything- "Shinoa thinks they have a crush on you."

Well...

Mikaela sure hoped so.

He doesn’t cup his mouth like a dumbass, but whispers back, "Really? What makes her think that?"

This seems to stump Yuu, because he leans back, causing Mikaela to look over at him and watch as he scratches his head.

The ravenet quickly glances over at Shinoa, giving her a puzzled look.

Mikaela’s eyes draw to the lavender haired girl who catches Yuu’s gaze and makes a face back, her brows furrowing.

Then, he looks back at Yuu who shrugs at her in response.

Before then again at Shinoa who flashes him a scowl. He could practically hear her exact thoughts. Definitely something along the lines of ‘Do I really have to do everything myself?’.

Mikaela snorts quietly. She should’ve known and picked someone else to interrogate him. Almost anyone other than Yuu might have made her some inkling of progress.

"Okay, well, I don’t know about that," Yuu says, as if it weren’t obvious he had no idea what he was talking about, "But I know about you."

Mikaela raises a brow at this, "Me? What about me?"

Those ivy eyes find him, glinting with a sense of determination, "Do you like (Y/n)?"

Mikaela almost smiles.

"Of course," he responds dutifully, "They’re part of your squad. I have to."

A little bit of a white lie but it’s more than worth it to watch Yuichiro’s face twist in distaste, obviously expecting a different answer.

"No!" He huffs, lifting his arms with a flurry to cross them over his chest, "I mean- do you like like them?"

Mikaela tilts his head, looking at his age-old friend under his lashes with an all but teasing smirk, "You sound like some kind of schoolgirl, Yuu-chan."

This only serves to frustrate the boy more, "Mika."

"Yuu," he chirps back mockingly.

His eyes have drifted back to (Y/n) though, who is oddly looking at Shinoa with a disturbed expression, making Mikaela pause. That is- until Shinoa leans forward with a grin stretching across her delicate face from ear to ear. He can probably guess what’s happening there.

Mikaela decides he’s thankful Shinoa chose Yuichiro to interrogate him about this matter rather than taking a go at him herself.

He also takes a second to silently apologizes to (Y/n) who clearly does not have this luxury.

"You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, you know," the boy next to him declares uselessly, "I need answers, Mika."

Unfortunately for Yuu, Mikaela had watched him do a multitude of stupid things for many years now. He had even been dragged into most of these stupid acts as an accomplice and impulse control.

Meaning...

Mikaela could play dumb all day.

"Answers about what?"

(Y/n)’s eyes narrow.

They take a step to one side.

The mirror across from them does the same.

(Y/n) takes a step to the other side.

Again, the latter follows in suit, toe for toe.

(Y/n) takes a step back.

They take a step forward.

"Would you stop that?" They finally huff, squinting at their opponent unabashedly.

Shinoa was damn near shameless, asking without missing a beat, "Have you guys kissed yet?"

"No!" They squawk, still unused to her bold questions, despite having been her subordinate for at least a year now.

"Oh, oh! What about this?" Shinoa’s lips curl upward in such a grin that puts the Cheshire Cat to shame, "Has he... Y’know?"

She taps her neck with a delicate finger.

(Y/n) voiced her inquiry flatly, "Has he sucked my blood?"

Her coffee-colored eyes light up in response, so they quickly shoot this second wind down.

"No, of course not," they wave away the idea with their hand, "Do I look like a chew toy to you, Shinoa?"

(Y/n) suddenly wasn’t so sure they wanted to know what Shinoa thought they looked like, so they quickly turn on their heels, "Actually, never mind, don’t answer that."

"Oh come on! You’re telling me he hasn’t put the moves on you at all?!" She asked, as if it were an outrage, "Not even one singular move, (Y/n)?"

They don’t even warrant her with a response, continuing to walk along the cracked and battered street.

After a short meeting after breakfast this morning, they had come to the notion they should probably go scavenging in the nearby area for supplies. They would divide and conquer and be back at the rendezvous point in an hour.

Unfortunately for (Y/n), Shinoa had practically thrown her arms around them and strangled them as she declared them as their partner for the day.

Even more unfortunate, most of the area they had agreed to scavenge had turned out to be inaccessible due to debris and overgrowth, so only forty minutes later they found themselves at the place they agreed to meet at.

Alone.

With Shinoa.

This, of course, was after they thought they had escaped this morning’s weird Shinoa-involved-shenanigan.

Everything had been fine. They had just been talking about (favorite hobby) and (Y/n) had maybe gotten a little distracted explaining the details, when suddenly things took a turn for the worse.

Shinoa had nudged them and brought to their attention Mika was looking at them, and like an idiot, (Y/n) had turned to stupidly smile at him and wave.

...

Okay, so, (Y/n) didn’t regret greeting Mika but they definitely regretted the unprecedented consequences of that action.

Ever since then, Shinoa had been pestering them about some silly crush they had on the blond vampire. Asking them ridiculous questions and poking and prodding and doing the most to mess with them.

(Y/n) could only hope their apparent Prince Charming would swoop in and save them from the she-demon’s grilling.

"At least tell me you’ve held hands."

(Y/n) lifts both their hands to their face.

And buries a very quiet, very repressed yell into them.

Shinoa is, of course, unfazed by this and only giggles at their misery.

"You know... all this would go away if you just told me the truth~"

(Y/n) did know one thing- and that one thing was Shinoa. If hypothetically, they did slip up and say something, anything, they knew damned well that would only result in a million and one more questions.

If Shinoa got even so much as a centimeter on them, she would assuredly take a mile.

So, they find their composure and bluntly reply, "I already told you."

(Y/n) turns to face Shinoa, crossing their arms over their chest and flashing the girl a sour look, "There is nothing going on between me and Mika. I don’t know what else you want me to say."

Shinoa gazes back unwaveringly, holding their gaze like a lifeline, staring into the depths of their very soul as she tried to pick them apart like a broken clock.

(Y/n) is reminded to glance down at their watch. They note there is still a good ten minutes left until the rest of their team needed to be back.

But Shinoa’s sudden rise in voice makes them immediately look back up.

"Well, if it isn’t thing one and thing two," she cheerfully sneers at guests behind themself, making them glance over their shoulder curiously, mostly just relieved to have the girl’s attention off them for now.

They’re not surprised at all to find Yuichiro marching along, fists swinging at his sides with a bounce in his smiling step as he makes his way over.

Mikaela trails behind him, looking nowhere near as amused with the world, seeming a little more withdrawn into his white cloak than usual, like a little hermit crab.

The sight instantly makes their lips quirk upward.

"Took you guys long enough," they greet, more than happy to turn away from Shinoa and all her prying questions to see them, "Find anything good?"

Yuichiro nearly cuts them off before they’re finished asking, "I found a chocolate bar!"

It’s more than enough to make a big smile break out across their own lips, but it’s nothing compared to the proud way Yuu is beaming about his discovery.

"That’s... great... what about actual food? Clean water? Toilet paper?" Shinoa deadpans next to them as the two boys slow to a stop.

(Y/n) hums at this. She was only joking, but she did have a point. Maybe this area was too war-torn to effectively scavenge. It wasn’t like it was uncommon. Sometimes the only good thing to come from a place like this was a really good sneeze from all the dust or a cool looking rock.

But this idea is dispelled from their mind at a sudden rustle, before their eyes focus again on Mika who pushes a gloved hand past his cloak, revealing a plastic bag of what appeared to be some kind of supplies.

(Y/n) claps their hands together, smile returning to their features, "Oh! Nice job, Mika!"

Only for Shinoa to ‘accidentally’ shoulder check them as she reaches forward to take the bag, not so subtly mocking, "Yeah! Nice job, Mika."

However, before they can look away and rebuttal, Mikaela looks up at them, his brows knitting together and flashing them an odd look as if to ask them what the hell Shinoa was on about this time.

And just like that (Y/n)’s annoyances fizzle out instantly, a match dropped into a puddle, replaced by a laugh stirring from their chest as they muster a subtle shrug in response.

They swear for a split second they can see the corners of his lips tug upward before he forces them back down, shaking his head back at them.

Though he doesn’t say anything, they nod in agreement, silently sharing his exasperation.

"Hey, quick question-"

Their attention shifts from the blond vampire to find Yuu squinting at them, brows furrowed as he leans forward to peer at them.

It makes (Y/n)’s brows knit too, mirroring his expression but with worry instead of curiosity as they leaned back in response.

"Why are you covered in dirt?"

(Y/n) groans, quickly reaching up to shake their fingers through their usually silky locks, hoping to get most of the dust out.

Damned end of the world debris.

The next time Mikaela got to talk to (Y/n) was hours and hours later, much to his dismay.

It was nightfall now and the Shinoa squad had hauled up in a small easily defendable inn that Yoichi and Kimizuki had stumbled across during their own scavenging earlier in the day. The last few hours had been spent securing it as a temporary base of operations.

(Y/n) had volunteered for the first watch, but claimed the room at the end on the bottom floor.

Mikaela had decided on the room next to theirs and had waited there for an hour and a half until he was sure all the others were fast asleep in their beds. He was sure none of them were skipping out on this luxury, since they usually slept cramped up in the car or on the cracked and uneven concrete.

The wait was worth it because when he silently stepped out of his temporary room, he found the (h/c) haired individual standing outside like they had agreed, poking at a small fire they had started with a stick.

The firelight casts a golden crown on their silky (h/c) locks much like a halo and paints their familiar face an expensive flickering shade as they gaze down at the flame in boredom.

"Long day?" He speaks up, but that’s an overstatement. His voice is almost as quiet as the fire crackling and the distant chirping of crickets filling the warm summer night air around them.

Still, those (e/c) eyes flicker up and brighten instantly at the sight of him.

"You could say that," they respond evenly, a welcome hint of amusement tinging their softened voice as they all but throw their stick elsewhere, revealing to Mikaela their barrel withheld excitement. It warms his heart to know they’re so happy to see him, but he saves them the embarrassment of voicing it.

As Mikaela draws closer to them, the gravel crunches under his feet and also with their own movements when they take a seat next to the fire, quickly motioning for him to sit down too.

He does so, unbothered by the heat that greets him, but knowing their affinity for not freezing to death, being alive and all. Proof in the pudding, they were already shuffling closer to steal his warmth, wrapping their arms around their figure.

"I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you all day," they comment suddenly, making Mikaela look over at them with a slight alarm.

But he forces himself to relax when they nudge his shoulder with their own, listening to their gentle words, "Thanks for coming out."

Mikaela can’t help the small smile that finds him as he nudges them back ever so lightly, replying just as softly, "I wouldn’t miss you for the world."

"Oh, so you don’t miss me?" They snort, turning their face to look up at him blankly under their dark lashes, keeping their face carefully clear.

He scrunches his nose up at their silly antics, feeling the urge to shove them playfully but repressing it in fear of them actually moving away, "You know what I meant."

(Y/n)’s lips upturn with a small grin, "Maybe, maybe not..."

They lean closer daringly, nearly bumping noses with him as they tease, meeting his icy gaze with their (e/c) one, "Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."

Mikaela indulges them, trying to convince himself that he could resist their charms if he really wanted to.

"I missed you too, (Y/n)," he breathes quietly into the air, lightly leaning forward to further decrease the space between them, resting his forehead lightly against theirs.

They gently push back against his head with their own, playful as ever, "I know."

"Do you?" He mocks, lashes sinking against his cheeks as he recalls, "Because I distinctly remember you telling Shinoa earlier that I meant nothing to you."

This time, they pull back a little to head butt him, adding a smidgen more force with faux annoyance, "That is not what I said and you know it."

"You told her I was gum on your shoe," he retorts, cracking his eyes open a smidgen to peer at them smugly, "You said you’d never seen me in your life."

"I did not, shut up," they whine, reaching a hand up in the minuscule space between them to rest his chin in the area between their pointed finger and thumb which came up to squish his cheeks.

It’s a funny feeling smiling as someone messes with your face.

"Besides, what was I supposed to tell her? The truth?" They utter, looking up at him under their lashes and arching a brow, "Because I’m sure she’d be over the moon if I waltzed in and woke her up right now to tell her that I like like you.”

Mikaela watches them steadily as their hand travels up his face to cup his cheek affectionately, "You like like me?”

(Y/n) smiles at him lazily and he admires the way the fire next to them flickers and reflects in the shine of their lively (e/c) eyes, “Shinoa’s words, not mine.”

He hums, eyes sinking closed again as he melts into their warm touch, “You know, she tried to rope Yuu into it too. Maybe she thought she could cover more ground that way or something."

The idea almost makes him snort, but he holds back, melting further into the quiet moment shared between them.

"Did you tell him?" They inquire, brushing their thumb lightly along his cheekbone. Mikaela didn’t need sleep but was certain if he ever did fall asleep again this would be how.

"Not yet," he mumbles, but saying it out loud lets a small prickle of guilt finds him, "I’d rather tell him when he wasn’t being peer pressured to ask me."

"It’s not like he’s going to notice by himself, Mika," (Y/n) retorts, but he can hear their lovely smile in the way their voice draws.

"I know," he responds lightly.

He turns his head in their hand and lovingly presses a kiss to the soft of their palm.

"Let’s not worry about them right now though. Tonight is ours."

Instead of swooning at his YA romance worthy one-liner, (Y/n) instead snorts, as if dumbfounded, "Wh- You cannot be jealous. They’re not even out here."

Mikaela��s eyes flutter open a crack only so he can flash them a sour look.

To which (Y/n) only pulls their hand away to fondly smile at him in response.

While he cherishes this look dearly, mentally taking a photograph of it to join the many others of their beautiful smile, he tells them point-blank, "Look, if you’re not going to cuddle, I’m going back to my room."

"See, that’s just cruel, you don’t even need sleep!" They argue, even as they wiggle closer to him, but they make sure to ‘accidentally’ nudge him a little roughly.

Mikaela hides his smile by resting his head on top of theirs as he welcomes them to his side wholeheartedly, lifting his arm and his cape before wrapping both snug around their figure and pulling them nearer, eliminating all space between them.

"But you do," he reminds them, patting their side fondly, "Now be quiet and close your eyes. I’ll keep watch instead."

"Quit being mean to me or I’ll go to my room," they mutter, and then add pointedly, maybe even a little quieter, "and I will sleep."

It’s not long before Mikaela realizes the reason why is because they were already halfway to snoozing, even as they mumbled that poor argument to him.

He can barely keep the smile off his lips long enough to press a feathery kiss to the top of their head.

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

#mikaela hyakuya #owari no seraph mikaela #mikaela x reader #mika x reader #mika #ons #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #seraph of the end mikaela #mikaela hyakuya x reader #owari no seraph x reader #seraph of the end x reader #breadkinswrites

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helpinghanikan · 4 years ago

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Sleeping arrangements

Avengers (and Matt Murdock x Reader)

Sum: It's late and the bed is so nice. It's time to sleep and to bring your heroes along with you. (Fluffy little snippets of sleepy time with the Avengers)

Steve Rogers:

It’s the last train home and only one thing in this world is warm. The wall of Steve Rogers your head rested against was beating softly through the jacket and shirt he wore. Keeping your arms around his center to keep any of the heat from getting away. His own arm protects around your shoulders, keeping you in and gibing his hand something to do instead.

He could’ve driven, he should’ve driven, instead he wanted to take the train. He wanted to walk around like he did years and years before, but this time with your hands intertwined.

Although far away the train has started to shake the earth. Taking you out of the almost sleeping world and back into this cold one. The change in worlds brings out a yawn and lets the cold back in. It’s been a long day. With your eyes closed and clothes heavier than they could ever be Steve was the only thing keeping you up. His chin rests on your head after a while, thumb rubbing over your shoulder as the train finally pulled to a stop.

Inside it was the same story but in a seated position. Guided into his lap and landing with a groan as it was just so much work. The practically empty strain allowed your legs to stretched straight out over the seats.

Steve could stay awake longer than most, but he was tired. He was cold and annoyed and really wished he had driven instead of taking this stupid train. He took his frustration out on squeezing you tight, holding on as if you were liable to fall right out of the seat if he let go. At least it was warmer inside the train.

Tony Stark:

Someone staying up late, not getting enough sleep, and making exhaustion their personality trait is funny for maybe week. But After days of trying to coax him to come to bed, to try something other than just giving up on sleep or even talking to a doctor it gets concerning. After weeks of these same issues, it becomes frustrating.

Everyone, from Pepper to Peter have done their fair share of lecturing. Happy has gone out of his way in helping you get the dumbass to appointments. All of which he has walked right out because, unfortunately, he was still an adult who could make his own decisions.

It’s only after using the nuclear word that he pays attention.

“Anthony,” You say just before he leaves the room.

Although speaking to his back he does stop. His shoulders have tensed under the t-shirt and he’s listening in.

There’s an audio book’s worth of things you could say about this issue. But it would all be a repeat that he’s heard before, from many different mouths. Instead, you kept it simple, not even bothering to turn on the light.

“You didn’t even try.” It comes out from a tired partner just wanting the best for him. Yet Tony walks away from the advice, again.

Thor:

Power doesn’t stop for sleep. It’s still in the air when he’s laying sideways towards the window. Because of the whole nighttime thing it’s hard to tell if clouds are actually coming in or darkening. Maybe you’re just insane but Mr. Weatherman didn’t say anything about rain tonight, right?

It was a jolt that really woke you up. Looking over your shoulder at the expanse of muscular back. Thor movements were always a bit too…loud for this world. Whether running through a fight or moving in his sleep it calls attention to everyone. He doesn’t mean to, but it does wake you up enough to see your glass is dryer as a bone.

As if reading your mind, the rain has come down. It could almost be described as torrential how hard it was all coming down. Matching the dramatics of rain, a lightning strike coming straight down into some poor tree.

This wasn’t the first time Thor had a nightmare. Asgardians just seemed to be humans 2.0, making Thor just as a victim to horror as we humans are. At the same time, he was still another worldly being, translating to giving him a few feet when waking him up.

Another strike of lightening and another tree is taken out of this world. Without the lights on that blast was your only moment of lightening. The rest of the journey made to Thor’s side of the bed was done in darkness and pounding rain. Following the outlined Asgardian until reaching his shoulder. A gentle hand on his should does nothing. A little shake and a whispered “Thor,” finally does the trick.

The two strikes of lightening outside somehow reached his eyes. For the briefest of seconds blue, cracking energy is directed right at you. Stopping just as quickly as they appeared, replaced with Thor’s regular blue eyes that blink a few times.

“What is it?” he asks.

There’s no point in telling him the truth about his nightmares and their effect. Then again, there’s no point in lying either. Instead, it’s better to distract. “It’s still super early. Back to bed.” You say instead, kissing with until he takes the hit and holds you.

Bucky Barnes:

Sleep is a luxury that isn’t worth chasing. With the pillows and sheets there were nightmares and enemies that could sense his weakness. Trying to get at least six hours and all that guarantees is waking up sweaty and a call to doc, making sure to get everything back in order before you could ever notice.

Instead, he takes walks. Maps out the city at night, the changes and differences that happened without him. He recognizes the buildings, the structures and bricks that were too strong to be a victim to time.

Most of the time he does this alone. Watching a show about nothing until you were asleep before starting his walk. But there were times you catch him, calling out to him like the neighborhood cat trying to get away. Getting on your own shoes and jacket quickly. Then enforcing the handholding during the little adventure.

It’s only when passing by something important that words are shared. “One of my buddies worked here when this place was a mechanic. Broke his leg just before the draft, I still think it was on purpose.” He’d say then never bring it up again.

These walks are always shorter than most. After two times Bucky learned when to make the loop back home with you. When your building comes back into view the handholding has gotten sweaty. The walking had slowed to a crawl and you were dragging him down by the arm. Even less talking was done after getting through the door; just landing face down onto the bed without bothering about the shoes.

These kind of walks were Bucky’ favorite.

Natasha Romanoff:

The bed was used almost exclusively for sleeping. As the couch was both comfy and expensive. And, as Nat puts it, “Should we do it with the lights off too? Under the covers like grandparents?” Although it was probably another reason to use the overpriced couch more often.

Like any good, and overworked, soldier Nat could sleep anywhere. When a mission is done, and there’s nothing to worry about, a shower and a nap is the best in the world.

“I smell nice,” She says walking into the living after the shower. Steam still behind her, hair wrapped up and a sweater purposefully bought to be several sizes too big.

She stretches and lays over you like a cat. Resting as close as possible so you, too, can smell the expensive shampoo she uses. Making sure that the body wash isn’t ignored either as that, too, was expensive.

“Might as well spend this pay on something,” She says when asked about the prices.

Although she asks what you’re up to she won’t be awake for the answer. Already teetering into sleep land when you answer.

Natasha was as athletic as she was heavy. Only sometimes managing to carry her bridal style and most of the time having to walk/guide her into the bedroom. Either letting her drop onto the bed with the same weight you had carried in, or she holds fast and takes you down with her.

Just like a cat, Natasha gets to decide cuddle time.

T’challa:

Although the mattress was new, the bed’s size was traditional, and passed on through generations of rulers. Forget California king bed, A Wakanda king bed was that and a half. Ten feet length, twelve feet tall. Combined with blankets, pillows and more it was easy to disappear into the thing. But it was also easy to get lost in it all.

In the middle of the night, in the very center of this ocean of bed, you can reach out forever. Finding pillows (both the decorative and the usable kind), smaller blankets or stuffed animals that have managed to be added. But it’s a tiresome journey, one that doesn’t seem to have an end even as you stretched to pointed toes and fingers.

It’s only after touching body heat that you can relax. Finally finding your king that turns to your touch. Making his own journey through sheets and bedding. Using you as the trail into his love. Neither of you thinking about the absolute nightmare it will be to make this bed tomorrow.

Pietro Maximoff:

For most of his life Pietro is moving. Be it running or just running his mouth, he’s not the kind of guy to sit still. Unfortunately, this also applies to sleeping.

“He’s been sleep walking since we were children,” Wanda once said. “Our father once found him crying in a puddle. He had slipped and woken up in the street. He’ll deny crying, though.”

As an adult Pietro doesn’t actively get up and walk around anymore. The man made up of strong and lean muscle still moves quite a bit. Waking up from freezing feet finding yours or because he’s sat upright in bed again. Using soft, but firm, pressure to get him to lay back down or to guide him back to his side of the bed. If you weren’t careful his arms would find you, almost dragging you back to his side of the bed.

He'd deny it in the morning. Smiling with barely open eyes as you’re still pressed against him. No matter how much you’re going to insist this was his fault he’d still mock you. Nuzzling in since you insist on cuddling so much.

Peter Parker:

There’s a time limit next when sitting next to Peter. You have ten minutes before his head finds your shoulder. If you don’t shrug or lean away he’ll stay there, slowly leaning in until he’s all settled.

Although not completely asleep he does rest. If your hands are held in those moments you could probably feel his pulse slow down as his breathing slows. Maybe his eyes manage to stay open, but his eyes do get heavy. Someone could say his name, and he’d respond, but it be from his throat. An annoyed groan directed to whoever was ruining this moment. Even if it was usually a teacher or adult.

It’s only when traveling, and you’re sitting for a while, that he completely falls asleep. Progressing past just leaning his head and adding his arms. If you allow him, putting an arm around your back and the other over your center. With your own arm over his back, he sleeps in a position that, although sweet, always left a pain in his neck. Something he’d complain about until you ask if he want’s you to rub his shoulders.

Stephen Strange:

During aura projection Stephen’s body is dead weight. No muscles or bone working with the individual trying to help them. It’s just taken over by gravity and his entire weight wants to be on the floor. Sleep does the same thing.

Short of a bucket of water to his face he won’t wake up. Part of his experience in med school was taking every bit of use sleep could give him. Which leads to sleeping fast, and sleeping hard, usually opened mouth. No snoring yet, but the moment he does there’s an open target for shutting him up.

Matt Murdock:

It’s a mixture of meditation and caffeine that he is still functioning. Too busy, much too busy, as a lawyer for the two of you to share a bed most of the time. Making any comments you have about his sleep schedule mute.

Watching him doesn’t change give any information either. Coffee in the morning, some deep breathing and self-centering in the between moments at work, and sleep ins on days off were all you could gather. Between that it’s easier to just assume he’s fine.

Just laugh at his “not like I need to rest my eyes,” jokes and move on.

Carol Danvers:

After going through every time change known to man, alien and beyond Carol has developed a very specific still. Carol Danvers, woman with the power of a star and to sleep literally anywhere at any time. Be it a cleared-out corner of some ship, an open floor that keeps her hidden from passersby or on your lap. The latter being her personal favorite.

Like a massive golden retriever, she wants to be in the middle of your lap. Close as possible with a arm holding around your shoulder and the other on her toy, or phone. A being of wiry muscle and heat keeping you pinned to the couch. Most of the time she’s out ten minutes into the movie, most of the time the remotes’ out of reach, and most of the time you gotta go pee.

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

Note

8 for Malex? Thanks!

*hiding because this took an embarrassing amount of time I'm sorry*

tags: high school au, slight mental health stuff goin’ on, bed sharing

8. bedtime stories [ao3]

Alex never claimed to be subtle.

He watched Michael openly, his thumb between his teeth as he eyed the way he pulled his shirt over his head. He knew this was probably inappropriate. However, Michael was hot and had yet to tell him to stop staring. Sometimes it seemed like he deliberately did things to make Alex stare. So Alex kept on and hoped that, if he was only doing this to make fun of Alex, at least he got something nice to look at.

“Hey, Alex,” Michael called, tossing his sweaty shirt into his bag and grabbing a dry one, “Do you think your brother would mind if I stayed over tonight? I don’t feel like going home.”

Alex swallowed and sat up straight. He looked around at the other guys in the locker room. He was sure one of them would say something. Magically, they didn’t.

“Clay won’t care,” Alex said, trying to seem nonchalant. Michael closed his locker and looked at him with a massive grin as he pulled his shirt down. His hair was still damp with sweat and it stuck to his forehead. Both of those things together were too much for Alex’s sanity.

“Cool. Meet you after school at my truck?”

“Okay. Yeah.”

Michael leaned close into Alex’s face and gave a mocking, “Okay, yeah,” before he laughed and walked around Alex. He twisted on the bench and followed him with his eyes as he went to the other side of the locker room where his other friends were. They instantly started talking about the game next Friday and how they were playing Carlsbad and how their team’s cheerleaders were hot. Michael didn’t deny it and Alex tried not to feel weird about it.

Instead, he grabbed his back and quickly headed out of the locker room. He hated gym and had put it off until his senior year, but now he was stuck doing it with basically no one to talk to except sophomore loners who seemed content to fail the class. He felt that.

The only highlight of it was Michael Guerin who he got to watch work up a sweat for 45 minutes every single day of the week. He got to watch him play dodgeball with too much enthusiasm and run the mile at the fastest in the class and play put-out with his friends. Alex had, somehow, befriended him when they were freshmen and both the youngest in their math class, so they stuck together. Then sophomore year they had Spanish together, junior year they had chemistry, this year they had gym. It wasn’t much but it was enough to spark an unlikely class-only friendship that turned into a school-only friendship that turned into an actual one.

He was Alex’s favorite person in the world.

The next two classes passed by relatively quickly, solely relying on the fact that Alex wasn’t paying attention and instead doodling aimlessly in his notes. Science was boring, math was easy.

Alex let himself into Michael’s truck because he was a dumbass who never locked it and sat in the passenger seat. His notebook stayed in his lap and he kept shading in the boat he was working on as the parking lot filled with other people going to their cars and people going to their buses. Michael always talked to his fellow football players before he left considering they couldn’t leave until the buses did anyway, so Alex wasn’t in a rush.

When Michael did climb in, he raised his head to get a good look at him. Because he always wanted to get a good look at him. Today, just like most days, he looked gorgeous and lit up from the inside and he was already staring at Alex.

“What’cha drawing?” he asked, scooting to the middle to look at Alex’s book. He pressed up against his side and eyed it, nodding his head. “Nice. I’m gonna get one of those tattooed on me one day.”

“What? A boat?”

“No, one of your pieces,” Michael laughed, shaking his head as he moved back to the driver’s seat. He turned the ignition and Alex stared at the side of his face. “Whichever one you think I should. Think about it.”

And Alex would think about it. It wasn’t even the first time he thought about it. Michael had spoken of getting one of his drawings on him before and the thought was quite possibly the most erotic thing Alex could think of which was ridiculous. There was nothing sexy about that in reality. But… Michael shirtless and having something Alex created permanently on his skin was just so good.

He went back to the drawing before he could entertain putting his tongue on it.

Michael turned up the radio before backing out of his spot and then they were on their way to Alex’s house. He put his drawing down in favor of watching out the window as Michael badly sang along to Nirvana and Beck.

Junior year was the first time Michael had come over to his house and it had felt weird to acknowledge that the person he’d spoken to nearly every day for over two years knew approximately nothing about his home life. Alex had half-assed an explanation about how his mother left and his dad was in jail, so Alex only lived with his brothers. Michael hadn’t judged him, only loudly made it clear he thought Clay was badass for stepping up when he was freshly 18 to make sure the rest of them didn’t get too screwed.

It was a few more after school hangouts after that that Michael confided that he’d been in the foster care system since he was a baby and had been in a group home for the last few years. Teenage boys were a hard sell to foster parents, apparently.

Clay had no problem giving his number to the group home to call for check-ins whenever Michael started staying over.

“Please tell me he got spicy Doritos because I‒hell yeah,” Michael said, letting himself roam freely around the kitchen. He pulled the bag of spicy nacho Doritos labeled Michael out of the pantry and ripped them open, a grin on his face. Alex could watch it all day.

“Can I steal the bar mix that you haven’t touched in, like, a month?” Flint asked, his gaze stuck on his computer where he was doing homework. His eyebrows were pulled into an angry glare at it.

“Yeah, sure, if it’s still good,” Michael answered, falling onto the couch right beside Alex and holding out the bag to him. Alex shook his head. Michael often got food obsessions and would go a month where that was all he wanted, but during bad days it was the only thing he could eat that didn’t make him lose his appetite.

Despite the fact that he was all smiles, Alex had memorized the warning signs and knew he wouldn’t be eating dinner.

“Sweet,” Flint said, sliding to the pantry to grab the remnants of Michael’s last food obsession.

One of the warning signs that Michael wasn’t doing great, despite the fact that he’d asked to come over at all and hadn’t just invited himself, was the fact that he had taken any excuse all day to be tactile Alex. He’d spent all lunch and gym with him instead of with his football buddies, he’d wanted to sit closer in the truck, he immediately sat practically on top of him on the couch.

Later that night, he sat beside him at dinner and picked at it, only eating the crunchy asparagus and the edges of the tortilla part of his quesadilla. Alex ate what he didn’t.

Michael took a shower and wore Alex’s clothes and made himself at home in Alex’s bed, all cozy and on his phone with his thumb in his mouth when Alex got out of the shower. When they’d first started spending the night together, Michael slept on the couch or on the floor. One night they’d fallen asleep in Alex’s bed during a movie and now that’s where he went each night.

Alex didn’t mind.

He shut off the lights and jumped into bed, putting on Netflix on the TV and starting up where they’d left off in their third watch-through of The Good Place. Michael scooted closer until they were touching in some way, his eyes still partially on his phone and partially on the TV.

It should’ve bothered Alex. It should’ve felt like taunting. Occasionally he did feel the need to shake him and ask him if he really wasn’t seeing how much Alex was into him. Was the staring not enough? Was the way he got a bit dizzy whenever he realized Michael was beginning to smell like Alex’s shampoo not enough? Was Alex’s eyes tracing every bead of sweat that rolled across his face like he hadn’t had water in weeks not enough? Was every single one of Michael’s other friends mentioning that they acted “kinda gay” not enough?

But mostly Alex was fine with it. Michael was safe here and comfortable and Alex wasn’t going to ruin that by wanting something more. So he would keep his hands to himself. He wouldn’t be subtle, but he wouldn’t be overbearing. He would just be Alex and hope that was alright.

“Alex,” Michael whispered, moving until his head was on Alex’s shoulder. Alex hummed in response. “Can you tell me a bedtime story about your boat?”

Alex smiled and shifted, his fingers slipping into Michael’s hair. Michael tilted his head up until they locked eyes. They were so close, just like every time Michael requested a bedtime story, as if that was the only acceptable time to be less than an inch away from each other’s face. Alex very quietly thought that their entire friendship felt like one.

“Once upon a time, there was a very loud pirate captain,” Alex started, watching as Michael’s thumb slowly started gravitating towards his mouth again, “He was old and held very strict beliefs. If you disagreed, he’d throw you overboard.”

“What a dick.”

“Mm, yeah, very. Anyway, he was always angry and his crew were like ‘shit, what if he’s lonely’ and decided they needed to get him a friend.”

“Oh no, poor lonely pirate man,” Michael said around his thumb.

“Poor lonely pirate man indeed,” Alex agreed, nodding solemnly, “So they searched high and low for anyone to be his companion. Not someone on the crew, but someone who would be his equal and separate from his employees. It was a very complicated task. They would find people who seemed good, but then the pirate captain wouldn’t like them and kick them out. It happened so many times they almost gave up. But eventually, they found an astronaut who seemed like a good fit because he was very smart and very happy.”

Michael pulled his thumb from his mouth with a loud pop, “So they really searched high, huh?”

Alex huffed a laugh and nodded, combing back his hair. His heart thudded in his chest as he stared at him, at his interested and tired eyes. God, he was so into him. Every single bit of him. Even when he needed moments like these.

“Yeah, really high. And they brought him back to the boat to meet the captain and they really, really thought he would hate him. But you know what? He didn’t. They actually got on quite well. And the captain started becoming a lot less angry,” Alex said. Michael shifted, pressing closer.

“And did the astronaut change?”

“Mhm. He got to relax too. He didn’t feel like he had to be super smart and happy to make everyone else happy anymore, he could just be himself. He could even be sad sometimes and that was okay because he had someone who liked him no matter what,” Alex explained, “He even would stop at islands to get his favorite foods.”

“Were they just best friends or were they in love?” Michael asked. Alex swallowed carefully and scanned his eyes over his face, trying to gauge what would be a better answer.

“They started as just best friends,” Alex decided, “But they fell in love. They were both. Somewhere in between.”

“Somewhere in between?”

“Yeah, like, not quite just best friends and not quite together romantically. Something different. Something special,” Alex tried. Michael watched him closely. In the background, Eleanor watched herself fall in love with Chidi for one of the hundreds of times they fell in love and Alex tried not to be too poetic about it.

“Alex,” Michael said, his hand dropping between them, “Are we somewhere in between? It feels like we are”

The question was honestly innocent but Alex stopped breathing, not knowing how to answer. He had a football player cuddling up to him in his bed. He should say no. He should save his own ass. He should keep it to himself.

But Michael was comfortable enough to cuddle him, to be babied when he needed it, to be raw and open.

So why couldn’t Alex?

“Do you wanna be?” Alex asked. Michael blinked. “Or… like… do you wanna be somewhere… not in between?”

“Like, on the other side? The romantic side?” Michael clarified. Alex nodded slowly, unsure. “Does it mean I get goodnight kisses?”

Alex let out a slow breath and laughed cautiously, “If you want them.”

“I want them,” Michael said assuredly. Alex couldn’t fucking think straight and he was just smiling stupidly at him. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Goodnight kisses, right here,” Michael said, tapping his lips delicately.

“Right. Okay.”

Alex moved his head just a little to give him a soft kiss, barely lasting a few seconds. He didn’t want to be too presumptuous. And, still, it was probably the best kiss he’d ever had in his life. His heart was trying to escape his chest.

He was really doing this. This was really happening.

“Did they live happily ever after, Alex?” Michael asked against his lips. Alex breathed and nodded.

“Yeah. They did.”

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #title tuesday #alexmanesss

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miwtze · 4 years ago

Text

bathroom floor (matsukawa issei x reader)

cw: eating disorders, purging, its not angsty

wc: 5.6k

dunno why this is so long but no beta i die like a man

matsukawa could count on one hand the names of his classmates that he could personally remember. even then it was only the class president and the student council secretary seeing as they were the only two people that ever really interacted with him when he was there. on his breaks he was with hanamaki, in class his head was down, after school he was at volleyball practice; he didn’t really have a reason to remember anyone else. it’s not to say he didn’t try, people were just standoffish due to his large structure or wanted to mingle with toru through him. he simply believed it was a bother. that was probably until his first term of his third year when he was seated next you.

“matsukawa-san.”

“matsuk-” matsukawa groans, shifting his head to the left in hopes of identifying the offending voice. he cracks open an eyelid, shifting his head to figure out who’s the one pulling him out of his nap; it wasn’t his mom or his younger brother. as his eyelids adjust to the rays of light engulfing the room he comes to the realization that he is in fact not in his bed, but rather sprawled across his desk and staring down at his desk mate’s tights-covered legs. “are you okay?” he whips his head up at your voice, wide eyed and rubbing the side of his mouth with the back of his palms as he scowls at you. not with any bad intentions but he’s willing to run the risk of looking like a dick if it saves him from the embarrassment of being caught sleeping in class.

“what is it?” you cock your eyebrows at him fingers to your chin, deep in thought. what did he say that was so interesting, he doesn’t know but he sinks into himself, wishing you would just outright laugh in his face. you don’t laugh. instead you turn around and dig through your bag pulling out a can of coffee and an energy bar, gingerly playing them on his desk.

“we’re both on class duty this week and the chemistry kits need to be brought down to class by the time lunch ends. we need it for our next class.” he stares at his wrist watch. he would rather use the last fifteen minutes of his lunch break to nap but he really didn’t want to forfeit the coffee or energy drink. not that you looked like you wanted it back. “i tried to wake you up earlier but you were kind of like a dead man walking. saying things like ‘five more minutes mom’ and ‘i’ll get up in a bit’.” matsukawa can feel the back of his neck heat up, rising to follow you out of the classroom and towards the science building. “figured you must’ve had a long night or something.”

“there’s absolutely no way you caught me fucking calling out to my mom. you should’ve just woken me up before everyone heard me telling me mom to let me sleep in,” he sighs, matching the pace of your step to walk next to you. “like, dude, that is so embarrassing.”

you turn your head and smile at him, he thinks it’s a little teasing but thankfully filled with no condescend. “actually for the most part the classroom was empty during lunch today, it was just me and secretary-san. everyone else went to go eat outside since the weather was nice.” you stated reassuringly, brushing hair behind your ears. matsukawa removes the hand he placed on his forehead with a sigh of relief. two people hearing him call out to his mother is significantly better than the whole class hearing it. “i don’t even think secretary-san heard you since she was on the other side of the room, but she most definitely saw you hung over your desk sleeping.”

“you shouldn’t call people secretary-san that’s, like, super impolite. also, if everyone else went outside to eat why’d you stay back? did you wanna watch me sleep or something,” he states matter-of-factly. turning his heel into the chemistry classroom making a beeline for the chemistry kits. he could still feel his neck burning, but he knows it’s because you’re digging holes into his back with your eyes. “or do you just, like, not have any friends.” you snicker behind him.

“you have to check the kits before you grab them; we need twenty four of them. also i’m not sure what the secretary’s name is. i was in a different class last year,” you say beginning to look through the kits separating the usable from the unusable ones. “and my friends got detention together and left me behind. some traitors they are.” you feign offense with the back of your hand to your forward and head tossed back. he notices a small beaded bracelet adorning your wrist, right under a thin gold one. you laugh at his raised eyebrows as finish separating the kits. he’s surprised to say the least, everyone in class one was the book nerd type who spoke harsh words behind whispers. at least to his knowledge anyways. he definitely didn’t think you would be this cheeky or friendly, especially not to the six feet tall monstrosity he was.

“why didn’t you just get detention with them. it seems more fun than eating by yourself, i think. i like to eat with my friends but apparently my dumbass fell asleep. i’ll probably get my ear chewed out during practice for it.”

“the most fun about doing things you’re not supposed to is getting away with it. plus i had to catch up on some other things so it didn’t make sense to leave and do something stupid just to get caught,” you say with a sly smile, struggling to mange the twelve kits you had split evenly between the two of you. he grabs your twelve including his silently, he wasn’t an athlete at a powerhouse school for nothing. “oh i see you are nice.”

“did you think i was some megawatt asshole or something?”

“maybe not megawatt, but, like, a twenty four watt asshole?” he snickers at that, following you into the classroom. “due to your kind act of charity, i’ll take it upon myself to take the notebooks to the teachers after school so you can head to practice early to get your ear chewed out, how does that sound?”

“absolutely fucking terrible, but much appreciated,” he says, sliding into his seat and cracking open the can of coffee you gave him. “thanks for this too, i’ll get you bread tomorrow during lunch to make up for it.”

“nah don’t worry about it,” you say, turning your head to greet two girls bouncing into the classroom stopping at your desk to complain about detention.

true to your word, you diligently collect and return the class notebooks that day after school. in fact you’re so dedicated to the task that you do it everyday for the rest of the week, never once asking matsukawa or complaining to him. matsukawa thinks you do it as to not bother him. he’s not entirely sure that’s the reason though, seeing as you’re pushing your desk next to his to share his literature textbook with him for the third time this week.

“sorry matsukawa-san, i forgot my literature textbook again. please do some charity work,” you whisper leaning over to look at the pages. you frown at his notes.

“you don’t sound like you forgot, also don’t judge someone else’s notes when they’re helping you,” he teases, looking down at you redoing his notes in a more orderly manner. small neat writing surrounds his messy illegible ones, highlighting what to look out for on the next exam. you’re wearing a gold ring with a jewel the same color of your beaded bracelet, small and dainty stilling on an even smaller middle finger. he sighs but he knows your notes have been helping him.

“between you and me? i definitely didn’t forget, i just hate carrying that heavy thing around.” you pause to look up from the notes, to his face and then back down. “maybe i’ll have you do it for me since you’re all big and tough, or whatever gender stereotype will benefit me.”

“you shouldn’t openly boast about being sexist.”

“what, you going to tell on me or something?”

“no but what’s the point in having me carry the damn book around if you have to walk home with it.” he’d rather you just not bring it seeing as no one else in his class talked to him and the most you talked to him was when you both were sharing his textbook.

“i do believe that is exactly why i don’t bring it, matsukawa-san,” you say dryly, returning to your task.

when the lunch bell rings you push your desk back and say your words of thanks, turning your heels to skip to your friends. he watches as the light hits your legs and the tights you always wear stretch around your thighs.

dirty bastard.

he turns and flees to takahiro, who makes fun of the blush creeping up matsukawas neck.

on friday afternoon, before issei leaves for practice he places two packaged rice balls and green tea on your desk. you open your mouth to say something but your friend beats you to it.

“oh? what’s this? a confession of love?” your friend pokes your cheek with a baby blue painted finger and shoots a smirk through her long eyelashes. she reminds issei of someone.

your other friend, one with dyed roots and glossed lips, pulls her back giggling saying, “hey c’mon now! you can’t scare him away, but it is an interesting approaching seeing as most people would just give a letter or something.” you sigh, shooting him a withering look of apology.

“na-chan, aya-chan, you can’t say things like that about people. it makes them uncomfortable. sorry matsukawa-san, what’s this for?”

“doin’ charity work i suppose.” you roll your eyes. “you should show gratitude when offered something, ya know?”

“oh? so this isn’t for the snacks i gave you the day i caught you slee-” he cuts you off by pulling up a chair to your desk. practice can wait.

“you are absolutely the fucking worst.”

“since you’re sitting here, share it with me i don’t like rice balls much.”

“i have practice.”

“you’re the one who sat down.” he blinks. your friends have already ran off yelling things about a part time job or something. you open both the rice balls and place one in front of him. “i don’t think you’ll get beaten if you’re a couple minutes late, at least i hope not. i think that’s illegal.”

“you’re just full of requests, huh? i might as well become make-a-wish with the amount of things i do for you,” he says mouth full of rice, towering over you even after sitting down. you sigh between small bites of the snack. “what? you don’t like umeboshi or something? why are ya looking at it like it’s defiling your throat.”

“not to sound ungrateful or anything, but i unfortunately am rather picky when it comes to food. but since the great matsukawa-san has blessed me with a rice ball i will thankfully finish it.”

“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“oh but i’m just too cute for you to let that bother you, isn’t that right?” you grin picking up your trash and grabbing your bag. “bye! i’ll see you tomorrow.” you leave before he has the chance to reply.

he leaves a couple minutes after you, heading to the third gym. he notices a pair of all too familiar tights-covered legs ducking in between the third and fourth gym. against his better judgement he follows.

dude, what the fuck. first you’re eyeing up your friend’s legs and now you’re following a girl behind the gym? get laid, he berates himself.

he watches the girl turn behind the fourth gym and he recognizes you by the charm hanging on the side of your bag. now he’s really curious. he silently leans against the wall getting close to the edge, but remaining out of sight. maybe it’s a really weird confession. he wouldn’t want to impose.

minutes pass before he actually hears anything but it wasn’t the confession he wasn’t expecting. sounds of you’re gagging fill the air. he has to stop himself from turning the corner and asking you if you’re okay, only being able to turn his head to look at you. fingers down your throat and tears down your face.

knot of uneasiness ties at the pit of his stomach as he turns and flees, knowing he saw something he shouldn’t have. the butterflies in his chest burden him knowing that he’s festering a crush on someone who hasn’t shared any part of herself to him other than her kindness. issei doesn’t like that.

after practice that day he stays continuing to abuse the gym floors hitting one volleyball after the other, trying to focus on the burns on his palms instead of anything else. oikawa and iwaizumi head out before him leaving him alone with the gym keys to lock up when he’s done. he doesn’t finish for another two hours and he only stops then because his body is about to give out on him.

matsukawa begrudgingly makes his way to the teachers room when he sees you fumble around, barely able to walk straight. his eyes widen when he sees you drop your bag and fall into the wall.

“fucking dumbass.” you hiss and pick up your bag.

“hey man, you good?” your entire body freezes, almost as if someone hit pause on you. he calls your name, panic creeping into his voice. “do you want me to carry your bag? i can walk you home.” when he goes to step towards you you swing your head back to face him.

“i’m fine matsukawa-san. have a good evening.”

he watches as your small figure, drowning in a big cardigan, stumble away quickly, never once turning back. he returns the keys to wall excusing himself, thinking about the chilling tone of your voice as he walks home.

he has no idea how to approach you after that, as the weeks pass by he avoids mentioning it, questions piling up in his mind. he knows you can tell that he’s antsy (there’s no way you don’t) around you, but you still keep polite conversation and share his literature textbook with him. sometimes you leave snacks on his desk, he always accepts them. matsukawas latest hobby has been lying face down on his desk during lunch to eavesdrop on your conversations. he tries to reason that he’s just tired but he’s so far deep he knows he’s lying to himself.

“do you think guys like clips?”

“i don’t think they care enough to pay attention to stuff like that.”

“really? i can't speak for dudes since i don’t have a dick-“ matsukawa almost blows his cover by laughing at your words “but i think they would appreciate a cute hair clip. especially on a girl he’s into.”

“i feel like guys should get into clips. i think they’d look good in them.” all three of them hum.

“wanna see if they do?” you say standing up, he can feel you hover around his desk. your friends giggle already connecting the dots, even he connected them. “matsukawa-san, hey matsukawa-san. are you sleeping? psst” you whisper close enough to where he can feel your breath on his ears. he stays silent. he watches your feet turn around, he’s almost disappointed.

“dude, he’s sleeping. you sure he won’t beat you up when he wakes up?”

“that’s a bridge i’ll cross when i get there.” you turn back around, thin fingers grabbing tufts of his hair gently as to not wake him up and pins them down. one. two. three. four. there’s two on each side of his forehead, he can feel them. “so aya-chan? na-chan? what’s the verdict.”

“his head is down we can’t tell.” your friend says, he assumes is the blunt one in your friend group probably the one you call aya-chan. he sits up. “looks like you’ve crossed that bridge though.”

“good luck, but i was right guys do look good with clips,” your other friend laugh, but before you can turn around to face mastukawa he grabs you by your waist and pulls you down. you end up on his lap and if he wasn’t too busy tickling you, he would question the promiscuity of his actions.

“you know it’s super impolite to mess around with people when they’re sleeping. it’s probably considered bullying.”

“ah! mastukawa-san! i can't breathe, i’m sorry! i’m sorry!” you can barely get your words out, getting get off between loud laughs. people look over.

“are you sorry?”

“yes yes now stop please.” he stops tickling you but still holds an arm around your waist, you make no movement to get off his lap either instead turning and grabbing his face to do a one over. “oh my god, na-chan you were right!” letting go to turn your friends, who shoot him looks of apology. “guys look super cute with clips on! hey matsukawa-san if you wanna seem less scary you should wear clips, not that i think you’re scary.”

“i’m always right, i religiously study fashion magazines. that’s why you two always look so hot.”

“ah thank you for your diligence. maybe if you studied your math textbook we’d be able to hang out this summer but someone has to do summer classes.” you giggle at your friends banter reaching over to grab your phone.

“hey matsukawa-san, smile!” pulling and arm around him you bring the phone up. he smiles and throws up a peace sign and take a couple pictures. “you’re being oddly agreeable with this. give me your line ID i’ll send these to you.” you hop off and face him.

“you just want his line ID.” of course you do, matsukawa issei is a complete stud and you want him.

“and? he’s going to give it me regardless of my intentions.” you pass your phone to him and he takes it from your hand watching the cardigan slip through your arm revealing bruises trailing under your gold bracelet. he catches you staring and quickly you pull up your sleeves to you palms. “look! sweater paws.”

“you’re stupid, here.”

“she’s not that stupid. she’s top of our grade, you know?”

“why are you bragging when you have to do remedial courses,” matsukawa deadpans, trying to figure out what to call them since he didn’t know their names and he wasn’t about to call her na-chan.

“oh, this is natsume and that’s ayasaki.” you say catching his frown as you remove the clips. he nods. “do you want me to get you clips you looked really cute with them. we can match.”

“should we get him sparkly ones? like blue ones,” ayasaki questions.

“oh! and some white ones? so it matches his volleyball uniforms?” you add on.

“absolutely not, i only did it because she’s cute.” pulling you back down, you melt into him. i feel so small next to him, maybe it’s because his huge. i like it. a lot.

“no means no. hanamaki would not let me live it down.”

“well would you look at this matsukawa went and got him a girlfriend!” it was as if he was cursed, turning to see the shit eating grin plastered over hanamaki’s face as he steps into his classroom. oikawa and iwaizumi behind, following him inside. “and you let her put clips in your hair? what a simp.”

“im not a fucking simp, i was asleep and she’s not my girlfriend.”

“she’s on your lap.”

“it’s a punishment for messing with someone that was sleeping,” matsukawa states matter-of-factly. he hopes hanamaki will drop it, but of course he won’t. it’s hanamaki.

“so who is this girlfriend-chan? is she cute?” oikawa asks circling around his desk to get a good look at you. he bursts into a grin and he says your name, your first name. hanamaki repeats it.

“oh dude you scored. good for you.” hanamaki pats his back, turning to engage in conversation with you. “do you remember me? i was in your first year class. we never talked though.”

“ah yes i recall you almost got held back because of your math scores,” you say looking up from your phone, matsukawa’s phone rings in his pocket. iwaizumi laughs.

“it’s good to see you again! we haven’t talked since, like, middle school. hi natsume-chan! ayasaki-chan! you three still together?” they both look up from the magazine natsume was pointing at.

“oh but of course. you and iwaizumi still married?”

“absolutely not i would never-“

“yes! we’re going on a honeymoon soon.” iwaizumi smacks him.

“it’s good to see the three of you, though. i didn’t know you went here,” iwaizumi says smiling.

“well that’s because your head only thinks about oikawa and volleyball, no?” ayasaki raises her eyebrows, you and natsume hum in agreement.

“oh my how romantic,” you coon. “are we invited to the baby shower?” matsukawa laughs into your shoulder pulling you closer. he feels you’re small frame, the bulky cardigan doing nothing to hide the bones he can feel brush against him.

“you know for a punishment you both seem to oddly enjoy yourselves,” hanamaki points out. “but, dude, you were super cute before but you’re so pretty now! what’d you do? cocaine?”

“not all of us have debaucherous hobbies hanamaki-san.”

it only gets louder between the banter of his friend group and yours, but he can’t focus thoughts piling up on after the other. when the lunch bell rings, matsukawa has a headache and it’s not from the noise.

“first of all? fuck coach for making us do two practice games in a row, like, i get it we have inter-highs when we get back in the winter, but this is fucking brutal.” hanamaki proclaims, feet dragging. “second of all, he’s making us practice tomorrow too. i might as well jump off the tokyo tower.”

“do a flip on your way down,” matsukawa says pulling his phone out to check his line. he texted you about his practice matches and hasn’t been able to reply since then.

“you said it yourself hanamaki, we have inter-highs coming up. we want to go to finals and to do that we have to practice,” iwaizumi reasons, but even his voice is drowned in exhaustion. oikawa whines and begins to complain about ushijima at finals and matsukawa tunes out, having already heard this seven times today.

[you, 12:13 pm] good luck at your matches today, hope u win straight sets so u can go home fast. -w-

[matsukawa, 5:11 pm] only won one of the matches but both went into a third set im so fucken tired.

you reply immediately.

[you, 5:11 pm] bruh that’s terrible make sure to grab something to eat. idk what nutritionists would say but i’m sure they would agree with me

“do you guys wanna grab something to eat?” matsukawa interjecting oikawa’s vent, raising his eyebrows.

“oh my god mattsun, you’re absolutely genius,” matsukawa shoots him a shit eating grin. “let’s get ramen?” oikawa finishes. iwaizumi and hanamaki nod in agreement, the three of them dragging themselves towards the ramen shop on the main street.

[matsukawa, 5:14 pm] you should eat too, have you had dinner?

[you, 5:15 pm] no but ayachan and nachan want to grab food before we head home. we went to a cat cafe today look. (one image attached) cute right >///<

before he gets the chance to reply he hears loud laughing coming from the street crossing on to the one the four of them were on down. maybe the day wasn’t so bad because you walk out laughing at something ayasaki said. he’s stunned. bewildered. whatever the fuck kind of emotion he’s feeling he knows it’s because you’re just so pretty. he’s a lot for words as he gapes at you, eyes wide like saucers.

“look who it is! hi guys!” natsume shouts, dragging you and ayasaki with her, your arms are all linked. he can’t move.

“wow, it’s you three again! you’re always together,” oikawa teases, jabbing an elbow into mastukawas ribs. “there’s your little girlfriend,” he whispers, matsukawa can’t even respond, he’s just so flustered.

“whatcha guys up too, anyways?” hanamaki asks when the three of you arrive in front of them.

“oh we were hanging out and we wanted to grab some food before we head home, you guys just get out of practice? you look so fucking dead,” you ask shooting them looks of pity. oikawa sighs, about to respond when mastukawa reaches and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“you cut your hair.” and it looks good.

“in fact i did.” a blush covers your cheeks almost hidden behind the glow of the setting sun. maybe i’m talking to an angel, matsukawa thinks. “thoughts?”

“you look gorgeous.” matsukawa can’t even stop himself. when he catches what he says he coughs and turns away flustered. howling shouts come from hanamaki, iwaizumi and ayasaki.

“he’s right though, you look delightful. we’re going to get ramen do you guys want to join us?” iwaizumi asks, shooting a smirk to matsukawa. he doesn’t even have time to be panicking about the situation because ayasaki, of course, agrees.

when all of you are seated along the L-shaped bar in front of the cooks, you lean in to speak to matsukawa. you both are seated at the corner next to each other which was done intentionally by hanamaki and ayasaki. “why are you guys slaving away at practice anyways during summer break anyways? does the coach have a bounty on you or something?” you’re playing with your fingers, watching the server place your meal down in front of you.

“honestly dude,” he stops to let out the heaviest sigh you’ve ever heard. “i think at this point, irihata and oikawa teamed up to put us through hell and back.”

“homie you completely ignored my question, why?”

“oh shit my bad. we’re trying to get to get to finals, you know? inter highs start up right after summer break and oikawa has a bone to pick with the shiratorizawa captain.”

“so you guys are feeling the fruits of his planned revenge?” matsukawa nods, resting his face in the palm of his hand. you shoot him a look of pity, reaching over to pat his head, his hair is so soft. “don’t worry i’m sure you’ll get your revenge, if not you can call out for your mom again” matsukawa’s face flushes and he grabs your wrists pulling you in.

“you. i thought we agreed to never mention that again,” he hissed under his breath, looking around to see if any of the other third years were eavesdropping. they weren’t. “i thought we had an agreement. i thought we were comrades. i thought-”

“matsukawa-san, matsukawa-san shhh! i’m sorry it’s fun to tease you. i promise i’ll make it so only i can make fun of you for that.” you giggle. “since we’re comrades and all.”

“i don’t wanna be your comrade anymore.”

“here take my gyoza and stop pouting, you’re cuter when you’re smiling.” you reach over and place all your gyoza into his bowl shooting him a blinding grin. “but that’s not to say you’re not cute when you’re pouting.”

“if i’m cute, what are you?” you frown, is he calling me ugly. he waves his hand through the air as if to will away your thoughts. “not like that. you’re pretty, pretty fucking cute.”

“you know, you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” you watch him eat as you poke at your own meal. he eats well, you smile. as the seven of you finish up your meals, you excuse yourself to the restroom. matsukawa thinks it’s suspect considering most of your bowl is full, so he follows you.

you know man your reputation for a full on creep is just expanding.

as he steps into the bathroom he seeks you hunched over, cursing spilling past your lips along with the food you forced down. you freeze, turning to look at him as he locks the door.

“i’m almost positive breaking into a bathroom is some kind of crime,” you state as if matsukawa didn’t just see you force yourself to throw up.

“i’m fully aware i’m not supposed to be in here, but i got worried, sue me.” you raise your eyebrows as him resting your arms on the toilet seat. he grimaces realizing you’re sitting on the bathroom floors. in a public bathroom. “also if you’re going to go to the bathroom as least lock the door.”

“it sounds like matsukwa issei already knew about this.”

“stop talking about it like it’s a joke.” matsukawa says grabbing tissues to wet them and pass to you. ”at least get defensive or something. i had my suspicions, saw things i shouldn’t have. i’m sorry about that.”

“don’t apologize you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m sorry for worrying you, but i don’t see this as anything of your concern.” you reach over to take the napkins from him, but he instead cleans your face for you. wiping away the spit and tears gently.

“wash your hands.” his voice left no room for argument, so you wobbled your way over to the sink and finished cleaning yourself. when you finish and turn to face him he lifts you on to the sink, trapping you in between his arms. “it’s not my concern but i’m going to concern myself with it. you’re hurting yourself.”

“so what, i’d rather hurt myself then have other people hurt me because of the way i look.” you're eyes are glassed over avoiding his and your voice is shaking, the raw emotions spilling out in contrast to your deadpan face. you guess that’s why you’re attracted to matsukawa, you’re both hide behind laid back personalities storing away a barricade of feelings gently stirring and building up. “don’t involve yourself with me anymore. i know it’s just going to be another weight on your shoulders. you’re too caring to pretend like you didn’t see it.”

“you don’t deserve that, there’s nothing that warrants this and you know that.” matsukawa sounds desperate, you know that he probably is. “i won’t let other people hurt you, i’ll protect you i promise. so please don’t push me away.”

“you’ll protect me huh.” you lean back against the mirror to look up at him. “what does that even mean.” he blinks.

“well actually i don’t know yet, but i want to figure it out with you. i want to support you and help you because i don’t want you to be alone in this, you know?” matsukawa was fumbling his words, he was nervous he couldn’t make you stay but he hoped to every god that you wouldn’t walk away. “like, i know i don’t know what to do, but i’m willing to try and figure it out. i know it’s gotta be lonely especially when your friends are bent over backwards for magazine models, and like, dude, i like you so much and i just-”

“matsukawa-san”

“yes”

“are you confessing to me in the bathroom of a ramen restaurant?” matsukawa nods, shamelessly. you think this is the most matsukawa confession to exist, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. the boy you pined over since first year found out about your dirty little secret and didn’t turn you way. he offered his and and wore his heart on his sleeve for you, who are you to turn him away. “i don’t know where we would go from here either, but i’d like it if we figured it out together.” matsukawa leans in closer to you, grabbing you by the back of your neck gently and pulling your face into his before you can object. when you break away your frown deepens, “you just kissed me with vomit breath.”

“it’s okay you’re the person i’ll kiss with vomit breath since we‘re comrades.”

“you shouldn’t call your girlfriend comrade, it doesn’t give me butterflies.”

“oh? so you’re my girlfriend now?”

“what, you don’t wanna date me?”

“oh absolutely i do. i’m honored to have the pleasure of being your boyfriend.” matsukawa teases as he pulls you down. your reply gets shut down by a wave of texts that blows up matsukawa’s phone.

[hanamaki, 6:03 pm] ayo casanova wya dude ???? are you getting your dick sucked in the bathroom that’s dirty she’s too cute for that anyways we paid and we’re heading out >.< stay safe muah

[iwaizumi, 6:05 pm] we left but you’re going to have to explain yourself tomorrow.

[oikawa, 6:06 pm] mattsun!! tell us about your salacious bathroom endeavors tomorrow at practice <333

you follow him out of the restrooms, leaning over to look at his messages and laugh, point to your phone which shows a string of messages of similar nature from ayasaki and natsume.

as you and matsukawa walk hand in hand down the streets of miyagi you can’t help but notice the butterflies blossom from the pits of your stomach exploding towards your beating heart.

“i’m thankful you’re the one who found out i don’t think i would want it be anyone else.”

“i wouldn’t want it to be anyone else either.”

as the twinkling street lights cheered you on, you stepped forward towards the future knowing you had matsukawa to lean on.

#matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #haikyuu x y/n #haikyu x reader #issei x y/n #tw eating disorder #tw purging #idk bro don’t read this #i hate this for real #/mattsun

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roll-da-credits · 4 years ago

Text

The Dreaded Finals - Kuroo x Dumbass Reader -

Word Count: 2.3k

With finals quickly approaching you dreaded for your impending doom. Having barely studied the entire semester and getting just passing grades, both you and Kuroo were rather anxious about the finals. (The title is me. I’m the dumbass reader.)

A/n

This story was brought to you by me procrastinating on studying for finals even though its literally a week away. I should study Physics and Biology right now but I can’t be bothered at all. Anyways, as always I hope you guys enjoy the first Haikyuu post here.

“THEN WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SERIES AND SEQUENCE IF THEY USE THE SAME FORMULAS???” What is math.

You threw your hand up and Kuroo looked at you, exhausted but amused at how idiotic you actually were.

This morning you were just reminded by your boyfriend, Kuroo that tomorrow was the math finals.

How you forgot the dates for finals was beyond him. Cue panicking over not understanding a single thing taught in math.

Him being the kind boyfriend he was, offered to teach you the formulas and do some example questions with you. Though at first, he thought it wasn’t going to be that hard, your scores weren’t amazing, but they were passing.

From your test answers, he noticed how you already understood the formulas. You just had trouble applying them and putting the right formulas on the right questions.

But he realized pretty quickly, you were just incredibly lucky.

“So, for geometric and arithmetic they have 2 formulas for each so its 4 formulas all together I think you already know that-“

“Wait there’s 4??” Kuroo looked up at you from the paper slowly, completely dumbfounded how you didn’t know there was 4. “Ok stop looking at me like that HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?”

Kuroo pitifully smiled and ruffled your hair. “How did you even pass this test if you didn’t know there were 4 formulas??” He actually was amazed at how you graduated from Junior High.

“Well I just guessed around, plus sitting beside smart students help a lot you know.” You nudged over towards Kuroo. A sly smile decorating your features.

He shook his head, amused at the fact that you somehow cheated on every single test but STILL get a BARELY passing score.

“Ok so, this is how it works.” He then spent close to one and a half hour explaining everything about ONE out of the four topics you had to study that day.

Thankfully you seemed to be focused to be learning everything, he was actually surprised at the fact that you were enthusiastic to try and understand everything.

Now was the hard topic. It was close to 8pm and you finished 3 topics, but the last one. Algebraic expressions.

“Yea no, you know what. I’m just going to stop here and hope this doesn’t come up that much tomorrow.” He laughed out loud at your reaction when he showed you his notes.

Your hand tangled in your hair with your eyes wide open, completely baffled at the satanic writing in front of you. “This doesn’t even look like math anymore.”

Sighing, you planted your head on his desk. He grabbed both your shoulders and shook you lightly as a small way of trying to cheer you up. “At least you already understood the other topics, algebra’s hard, don’t be too hard on yourself.” He tried motivating you.

Kuroo was one of the most supportive boyfriends you could ever ask for, whenever it came to you trying out new things or you trying to study. He was always there to support you and sometimes tease you whenever you needed a laugh.

Kuroo smiled fondly over at you, there was something about you that always captivated him. Even in situations like these where you’re frustrated or just plain annoyed, he always saw you as incredible.

He admired you as well, although sure your grades weren’t something that would qualify for Harvard or Oxford. He admired that you still tried, albeit you procrastinated a lot. He’s never seen you fully give up and come to something completely unprepared.

You were always working on your flaws, whether you realized it or not. And for that he admired you. “Can we just hang out now? You’re very deserving of a break.”

Truthfully, he just wanted to have a soft cuddle session with you on the bed until you realized you had to go home, before your parents start calling the police. Much to his disappointment, you shook your head and opened your phone to check the time.

“Can’t. My parents already texted me, asking where I am.” You muttered, already beginning to take your books and notebooks. “Thank you for teaching me though, you’re the best.”

You gave him a light peck on his lips as you stood. Successfully making the volleyball captain grin. “Love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

The next day came and it was no surprise that he was actually worried for you. As always, you arrived in class one minute before the teacher came in.

Before the test papers were handed out Kuroo saw you look back at his seat 2 rows behind you and grinned largely.

How the fuck were you so calm.

Even he was stressing a little bit internally. He felt like he didn’t prepare enough.

When the tests were handed out his eyes widened. From what he saw by skimming the questions, close to 75% of it was algebraic expressions.

Something both of you deliberately skipped last night. Safe to say the entire time he was doing the test he snuck glances over to you, trying to see if you were panicking or not.

Although, even if you were, he wouldn’t be able to see it since your back was facing him. For some reason, it was panicking him a lot that he didn’t spend the time to teach you.

What happens if you fail?

He knows your parents were rather strict on grades. They agreed as long as it was a passing grade you would be safe from a punishment.

But what if you failed?

Would your parents stop you from visiting him?

Or worse, what if they confiscated your phone?

How was he going to text you flustering pick-up lines in ungodly hours of night?

Even through all of the stress pile up and him panicking every time he read a new question and it was still algebraic expressions. He somehow finished the entire test on time.

The only good thing that comes from finals are, no other subjects, and you get to go home early. Lunch time came as soon as the test ended and the bell rang.

Kuroo immediately went to your table, “Damn, we should’ve studied algebraic expressions huh cutie?”

He patted your head lightly. He wanted to tease you, making sure you smiled at something if you were feeling down at the unlucky test questions.

What he didn’t expect you to do was giggle. “Damnit, I probably used up all my luck in my other tests.” You barely seemed bothered by the high chance you might get a failed score on math FINALS. “Maybe next time I’ll listen to you more.”

You grinned ear to ear, standing up from your chair to kiss the rooster head boy on the cheek.

“You coming? I want to meet up with Kenma.” He didn’t even realize you were already leaving the classroom.

The rest of the lunch break was spent with you and him talking about random nonsense, whilst Kenma sits playing his game and adding a few of his own opinions to whatever topic you talked about.

Afterwards it was time for another final test, you and Kuroo took your seats again and began the test.

He again realized; this was difficult. He struggled with a few of the questions. This made him worry again for you.

Not that he wanted assume you were stupid or anything of the kind, you were a pretty smart person when it came to certain subject. Though, other subjects you seem to get a barely passing grade.

Then again, after the test, you didn’t seem bothered by it and barely complained about the question.

The finals week went on and every day the same thing keeps happening.

He’d help you study but would have to cut a few things from each topic short because you had to go home. The next day the test would have you write the answers completely and in depth, he’d get worried you won’t be able to do it. As always, after the test.

You didn’t seem shocked or even bothered.

You didn’t even talk about the finals when you were hanging out, you wouldn’t talk about the questions or even discuss the questions you didn’t understand with him.

He was perplexed by you. One day you were panicking because you didn’t understand math at all, the next you seemed terrifyingly calm after doing something you supposedly can’t do.

You didn’t speak about the finals for the next week either, it was when the last week of school finally came that the moment of truth is revealed.

All the test papers would be given back to the students.

Since this was finals to determine if you’d make it to your third year, everyone seemed antsy. Even Kuroo himself was scared to see his score, passing was one thing, his expectations for himself was another thing.

He looked over to you, and again. You seemed,

Oddly calm

No nervous foot tapping, ghost piano playing on your table, or even your fingers fidgeting with each other.

Nothing.

Completely calm

It was unnerving, he’s never seen you that calm before.

You’ve always been someone who matched his energetic lifestyle, so seeing you so quiet and calm was… creepy.

The test papers are finally given back to the students, and the teacher left the classroom.

A range of emotions swept through the class, some crying, others cheering. Kuroo sighed in relief. His scores just reached his own expectations.

He walked over to your table and saw you clutching the paper close to your chest. Readying for the worst, he waited for an outburst of emotion.

Then he saw it.

The first few tears that came out of your eyes. His heart immediately broke at the sight.

He knew you worked hard and didn’t procrastinate the whole week of finals, although you did before. You always made up for it by studying extra hard a day before finals.

He took his palm and wiped a few of your tears. “Oi, cutie, come on give me a smile. Grades don’t mean everything. Plus, I bet that one subject you love you got a really good score on.”

He took your chin on his right hand and lightly pulled it up to look at him.

His eyes widening with little bit of fear. You were SMILING???

Seeing his shocked expression made you laugh really loudly whilst wiping the tears. You put all of your test papers on your table for him to see.

Every one of your finals you didn’t only get a passing score.

But every one of them were above 85.

You got a 90 for math.

“I DID IT!!!” You enthusiastically yelled and stood up abruptly.

You hugged Kuroo, whilst the table between the two of you made the position a little bit awkward. He leaned into your touch, still confused though.

When you pulled away you laughed at his ridiculously confused expression. You sighed in contempt and sat back down at your chair.

“I slept for 2 hours every single night, just to study. When I come back home from your house, I’d still study. I’d try to understand every single thing we didn’t touch on before.” Your eyes glimmered with a sense of pride.

A new kind of admiration filled his heart as he listened to his beautiful lover talk about all the things they did to help them memorize everything.

You were lost in your own explanation that it took you a while to realize Kuroo was looking at you with the most love-struck expression. “Pffftt, what’s that face.” When he realized he was staring he immediately looked away and blushed.

“Hey hey hey!! I thought you were the teasing one in this relationship.” You continued to tease him whilst laughing.

Kuroo looked back at you and gave you one of the most genuine smiles you’ve ever seen. Successfully making you stop talking, “You’re incredible.”

He said out of nowhere. It amazed you at how Kuroo was able to say those kinds of things with a straight face. You awkwardly laughed at his comment, “You inspired me you know?” His head cocked to the side with curiosity. “I thought to myself, you deserved a smarter lover. So, I wanted to get really good scores this year.”

Oh, if only you knew how much YOU inspired HIM to be a better person. Since it was time to go home anyways, Kuroo took your bag with his and dragged you across the hallways.

“Where the hell are we going???” You were utterly confused.

Kuroo didn’t even reply, he just ran all the way back to his home and his room. You threw off your shoes as quickly as possible whilst he was still pulling you.

He pulled you on his bed with him and immediately cuddled close.

“The fuck?” It wasn’t as if you didn’t like it.

You just were… confused

“You said you haven’t been getting enough sleep so we’re taking a nap right now. I won’t take no for an answer chibi-chan. If you do say no, I’ll just keep bragging about my scores until you’ll sleep just to get away from me.”

You scoffed, “I’d never fall asleep with THAT kind of bedtime story.”

Kuroo looked down at you, “Well, first off I got a 98 in math, it wasn’t hard. I saw that question 4 you got it wrong and the way to actually do it is-”

“Go to hell, I’d rather sleep.” His signature hyena laugh filled the room.

Adorable as always.

“Then go to sleep cutie.”

You hummed in agreement and put your hands around his torso, whilst he to yours. His chin resting on the top of your head and you nuzzling into his broad chest.

This was the perfect end to finals week.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #haikyuu x you #haikyuu oneshot #kuroo oneshot #kuroo fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x self insert #kuroo #kenma #haikyuu!!

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nayutai · 4 years ago

Text

The Task At Hand

Pairing Mingyu x Female OC

Word Count 15.1k

Warnings mentions of infidelity, mentions of racism, foul language, anxiety, insecurities, therapy sessions, dumbasses in love, light choking, dry humping

Summary The first year of marriage is always the hardest. Unfortunately for Mingyu and Kamile, the first year as husband and wife may also be their last.

Notes This absolute behemoth of a fic is my contribution to The Intimacy Anthology where I, along with many other fantastic writers, have explored intimacy in all of its many forms. This fic is incredibly close to my heart and I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please check out the other stories featured in the project here as well!

Mingyu fumbles with his keys in the dark as he searches for the one that’ll get him into his house. The alcohol coursing through his system is making this very simple task a lot harder than it needs to be. He shouts victoriously when he finally manages to unlock the front door to stumble inside. He freezes when he hears someone clapping slowly off to his right.

“Two minutes and forty seven seconds. That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would but then again you have been good at finishing quickly these days.” Mingyu groans deep in his throat at the scathing words from the woman staring him down from the love seat in the living room. She lifts a glass of what he can only assume is white wine to her lips, draining it quickly.

“I’m too drunk for your bullshit tonight, Kamile.” Mingyu grunts as he leans back against the door to steady himself while he toes his sneakers off. All he wants to do is crawl up the stairs to the guest room he’s been sleeping in so that he can go to sleep. He rolls his eyes when he hears Kamile clear her throat from across the room. If he knows anything about his wife, nothing good is about to come out of her mouth.

“If you didn’t want to hear my bullshit then maybe you should’ve shown up for dinner with my parents tonight.” The venom in her voice makes Mingyu’s blood run cold. He’d totally forgotten about her mother’s birthday dinner tonight. Fuck. As much as he hates to hear her nagging him, even he has to admit that he deserves it this time. This dinner has been planned for months and he should’ve been there.

He forces his eyes to focus when he looks back over at the brooding woman shooting daggers at him from across the room. It’s then he registers the fact that she’s still fully dressed despite the late hour. Kamile is a huge proponent of being comfortable within the walls of her own home and for her to sit in a dress and heels as she waits on his appearance does not bode well for him in the slightest. He’s surprised that she hasn’t launched her wine glass at his head.

“Whatever or whoever you were out doing,” Kamile rises slowly from the couch, impressively steady in her heels despite the bottle of wine she ran through waiting on her neglectful husband to come home. Silence stretches between them interrupted only by the damning clicks of her shoes against the hardwood flooring. Kamile stops to appraise the man she married when she reaches him, wondering where it all went wrong.

“…I hope it was worth it.” She silences his groveling with a raised hand. She’s tired of the arguing. Tired of the excuses. Just tired in general.

Most people would have some sort of emotional response to this but her exhaustion leaves nothing but an empty void in its wake. Mingyu may as well be yelling at a brick wall for all the response he gets from Kamile as she slowly climbs the stairs. The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut echoing around the house may as well have been a gunshot.

“One more thing for her to hold over my fucking head.” Mingyu grumbles as he slowly blazes his own trail up the stairs. He pauses before the closed door to the bedroom they once shared, hand gripping the doorknob in his hand as he contemplates going in to apologize. “What’s the use? Not like she’d listen to me now anyway.”

The bed in the guest room welcomes him like an old friend when he flops down on it, draining him of his energy. Thoughts of how he’ll fix things in the morning drift through his head. Sleep evens out his features, lulling him into a peaceful slumber despite the fact that he’s still fully clothed. The perfect cover for the plans being set in motion right down the hall.

The sun rouses Mingyu from his sleep way before he’s ready. He could’ve sworn that the curtains were pulled closed when he went to bed but it’s hard to know what’s what when you’re three sheets to the wind at god only knows what time. Blindly, he reaches out for his phone where he’d left it on the nightstand but comes up with a piece of paper instead. It takes a minute for his eyes to focus enough to read the words on the page, but when they do he finds himself bolting for the ensuite bathroom. The offensive piece of stationary gently drifting to the ground as if it hasn’t just ruined his life.

He heaves and wretches until he has nothing left to give. His knees buckle several times as he tries to brush his teeth which is an incredibly difficult task to complete when one is sobbing with everything they have. This can’t be happening. He refuses to believe that this is his reality. Mingyu’s heart sinks even lower when he drags himself back to the bedroom and sees Kamile’s wedding ring on the night stand next to his phone. He retrieves the letter from where it rests on the floor, reading it over until the tears he’d fought back make a reappearance.

Doing this feels incredibly impersonal but I feel like it’s probably better this way. I realized that the flame I thought would burn forever is barely a spark anymore. Tonight was an epiphany for me. I realize that I deserve better and I’ve decided that I will have it. I’ve always wished you joy and light and I will probably never stop doing that despite everything that’s happened but I can’t do it as your wife anymore.

Take care,

Kamile Dexter

The usage of her maiden name feels like the final nail in his coffin. He calls. He texts. He emails. He even sends her a message on instagram. Every single attempt to reach her goes unanswered. Anyone could see that things hadn’t been the best between them for a while, but never in his most horrific nightmares did Mingyu think that Kamile would actually leave.

Time is irrelevant to Mingyu in the days that follow Kamile’s departure. He wakes up when his alarm goes off and drifts through the day. His nights are spent calling Kamile despite the fact that she never answers which then leads to him drinking himself into an alcohol-induced sleep complete with all the blessed numbness that it provides until his alarm goes off once more. This is without a doubt the lowest point of his life and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Kamile grew up with Vernon so naturally Mingyu tries to enlist his help. Unfortunately, it seems that she has anticipated that move and stops answering Vernon’s calls and texts as well.

With all of his other options seemingly exhausted, Mingyu calls the one person that could possibly help him, Sidra Dexter. A woman with many accolades to her name, Sidra considers being Kamile’s mother to be the most important among them. If anyone knows how to get through to his wife, it’s Sidra. Mingyu prays that she still has a soft spot for him as the phone rings in his ear. If this call goes unanswered, then he really will lose all hope in saving his marriage.

“It’s about damn time you called me, Gyu Bear. My daughter left you a whole week ago tomorrow and you’re just now enlisting my services? Tell me why that is.” Never a woman to beat around the bush, Sidra gets right to the point with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile.

“I don’t know what to do, Mama Dee. She won’t talk to me.” Mingyu whines, on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time today.

“Of course she won’t. She’s stubborn just like her ornery ass father.” The aforementioned father pipes up in the background to defend himself but is quickly shut down. “Now back to you, Gyu Bear. You have messed up big time but I love you so I’m going to help you fix it but I have one question first.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Did you cheat on my daughter? And yes that ‘harmless flirting’ shit you men folk like to do counts as cheating in my book.”

“Of course not! Wait…does Kam think I cheated?” Mingyu is floored and honestly a little angered at the fact that after all these years together Kamile thinks he’s actually capable of infidelity. The alcohol-induced haze clears long enough for his brain to recall a comment she’d made the night she left about whoever he was doing being worth it.

“She sure does,” Sidra starts up, “but luckily for you, my gut says that you’re telling the truth and it hasn’t steered me wrong in the last 56 years so I don’t see a reason not to trust it now. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

Mingyu listens intently as Sidra outlines her master plan. Not for the first time, he’s in awe of the way her brain functions. The tightness in his chest subsides a little bit with every word she says. For the first time in the six days since Kamile left, Mingyu feels like his life has meaning again. His marriage might not be over after all.

Despite the fact that Kamile had no intention of answering any of Mingyu’s desperate pleas for attention, the sudden cessation of said pleas only serve to further increase her anguish. She’d originally thought she’d be able to finally find peace when he gave up, but that does not seem to be the case. A part of her didn’t want him to stop trying. Didn’t want him to stop fighting for her.

Did I make the right choice?

The question has haunted her every waking moment as she adjusts to her new normal. She’s been adrift for the last ten days trying to figure out her next plan of action. Should she stay in Korea? Should she go back to America? Should she throw a dart at a map and go wherever it lands? The possibilities are endless but Kamile finds herself unable to fully commit to either option which is how she’s ending up existing on takeout in a hotel for the past week and some change. God, why did she have to be so impulsive? She should’ve made sure that she had a game plan before she just up and left like that.

Her phone rings on the small night stand, interrupting her self-loathing thoughts. Kamile groans when she sees that it’s her mother. Ever since she’d broken the news to her parents that she’d decided to leave Mingyu, her mom has been giving her grief. Kamile had always had a hunch that her mom loved Mingyu just as much if not more than she loved her, but their break up has made her think that her hunch had been closer to the truth than she’d previously thought.

“Hey, ma.” Kamile greets her mother apprehensively, bracing for the latest round of her mother’s reconciliation efforts.

“Hello, my lovely daughter. I just landed in Seoul so if you don’t mind coming to get me from the airport that would be great.” Kamile chokes on the mouthful of noodles she’d been munching on. There’s no way in hell that her mother just said that she’s in Seoul. Sure enough, Kamile pulls her phone away from her ear to check her mother’s location and it says that she is in fact at the Incheon Airport.

“Baby, what did I tell you about making sure you properly chew your food before swallowing. Did you forget what happened to your Uncle Tommy?” Kamile barely hears her mother’s recounting about the uncle who’d died from choking on a fish bone as she rushes around her hotel room gathering her things. She can’t believe her mom really flew halfway across the globe. Thankfully, her hotel isn’t far from the airport so Kamile is helping her mother put her bags in the back of her SUV in no time at all.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?” Kamile questions as she eases her car into the steady stream of traffic bound for the exit.

“You just left your husband and you didn’t come home to me so I don’t know what made you think that I wasn’t coming out here. A friend of mine is letting me stay with her since I know how you are about your space.”

Kamile is more than a little thankful for that. Her mother can be overbearing when she’s on a mission and the fact that she’ll still be able to maintain some personal space is comforting. She’s only too happy to let the gps in her guide her to this friend’s house. The closer they get to their destination though the more unsettled she becomes. She has no idea why her gut is telling her to be suspicious, but she’s definitely not about to ignore it. Kamile’s sense are on high alert when she turns into the driveway of a nondescript home in one of the more affluent suburbs of the city.

“Mom, what’s this friend’s name?” Kamile eyes the structure in front of her as if it could possibly grow teeth and bite her. Something is not right here and if there’s one thing her mother taught her, it’s to trust her gut instinct and right now her gut is telling her to throw her car in reverse and get the hell out of dodge. The only thing keeping her from running for the hills is the fact her mother seems so at ease as she hops out of the car to grab her bags.

“Her name is Bae Yeojin. She studied abroad at Villanova her junior year and we were roommates. She’s got a pretty successful business now.” Kamile hums in acknowledgement. She vaguely recalls her mom telling her about a girl named Yeojin from college, but that does nothing to assuage the uneasiness in her gut.

Kamile waits at the bottom of the steps as her mother knocks on the front door. Her fingers are drumming on banister, eyes glancing back and forth from the ornate door and her car. She clutches her keys like a lifeline. At the slightest provocation, she’s ready to bolt. The two women squeal like school children and not the established professionals they are at the first sight of each other. Kamile wonders briefly how long it’s been since they last saw each other.

“Kamile Danielle Kim get your ass up here and say hi.” Not one to disobey a direct order, especially one accompanied by her full name, Kamile reluctantly climbs the short staircase.

“Jesus, Sid, you really spit this one right out. She’s practically your twin.” Yeojin exclaims. She pulls Kamile into a quick hug before ushering the both of them inside.

One deep breath and Kamile instantly realizes why she felt so uneasy. There’s candles burning in the foyer, but they do nothing to mask the familiar scent she’s spent the last six years smelling. Mingyu is in this house somewhere. She spins around to fix the two women with what she hopes is a threatening glare. Unfortunately, neither one of them appears to be phased by it in the slightest.

“What the hell is going on here?” Kamile’s quickly starting to realize that not trusting her gut has landed her in a situation she most definitely has no interest being in. Her eyes quickly dart back and forth between the two scam artists in front of her.

“I told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.” Yeojin doesn’t take her eyes off Kamile as she holds her hand out to Sidra who is grumbling while she digs in her purse to hand over a few bills.

“Dammit, Kam, did I really raise you to be this observant? You’re costing me money.”

“Yes, now what in the fresh hell do y’all have going on?” The answer to her question comes in the form of timid footsteps sounding off behind her. Her spine stiffens. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. She can sense him. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not. Now turn your little narrow butt around and have a seat.” Sidra adopts the tone she’d frequently used when Kamile was growing up and even now as an adult Kamile knows that disobeying this direct order is not the right choice to make.

It’s with a grimace, that she pivots on her heel to face her husband for the first time since she walked out on him. The satisfaction she feels when she sees just how awful he looks is cancelled out by the fact that she probably looks just as bad. It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t missed the comfort and solace his presence used to bring her. That she doesn’t want to let the outside world fade away as she hides away in his embrace. She wants that back. Craves it even, but enough is enough.

Curse words flow like running water through Kamile’s mind as her mother situates her on a love seat in the living room with Mingyu sat right next to her. His large frame dwarfs the slightly undersized piece of furniture. She can feel the body heat radiating off of him and it’s a battle of wills to keep from leaning into him.

“First things first…” Sidra claps her hands as she and Yeojin take a seat on the sofa opposite the troubled couple, “I think now is a good time to mention that Ms. Yeojin here is actually a therapist who specializes in couples therapy.”

Of course she is.

Kamile rolls her eyes as the puzzle pieces start clicking into place. She could be buried under her blankets, binging on The Golden Girls right now, but no, her meddling ass mother has scammed her into marriage counseling instead. She should’ve ran when she had the chance.

“Based on what Sid has told me, the two of you are exactly one week shy of your first wedding anniversary and already on the verge of divorce. So, who would like to dump their emotional baggage on the floor first?” Yeojin glances between Kamile and Mingyu looking for a crack in their demeanor that she can exploit. Mingyu looks like he wants to hurl while Kamile’s face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. She makes her choice easily.

“Mingyu, thank you for volunteering. Let’s hear it.”

Put on the spot, Mingyu chances a glance sideways at Kamile before clearing his throat. Yeojin sits at the ready with her notebook and pen. She listens intently as Mingyu tells the fiasco as he sees it.

“I know I forget things sometimes. I try not to, but I’m an idol. I have a lot going on but that’s no different from when we first started dating so I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a big issue now.” Mingyu seems to find his voice as he speaks up on how he believes that he’s been wronged. The timid nervousness he’d felt before quickly getting pushed down so that his frustration can take over.

“When we first started dating, I wasn’t being abandoned in a house all day with nothing to do.” Kamile may have been grumbling under her breath but Mingyu hears her loud and clear. His head whips around so fas that the two mothers across from him silently worry about the neck pain that may cause him later.

“You have nothing to do because you’ve turned down every opportunity that’s come your way.” Thoughts of the numerous job and consulting offers from Pledis and other entertainment companies like them that she turned down come flying to the forefront of his memory. Human resource agents have practically been beating down their door for the chance to work with Kamile, a creative visionary in her own right, but she’s rejected them one after another without a moment’s hesitation.

“You mean every opportunity that you have sent my way. Like why would I want to work at that entertainment company and be forced to watch that bitch Miyeon flirt with you every day like you’re not married?” Mingyu is forced to concede to her point with that one. Miyeon is one of the stylists at the company and, despite his repeated rejection, is too flirtatious for his liking as well. Unfortunately, she’s deeply entrenched in the corporate hierarchy and nothing short of murder would make the higher ups get rid of her even if all of the members have lodged complaints against her.

“Is that the simple hoe you come home smelling like every time you’re ‘out with the boys’?” Kamile adds on as if she’s finally started connecting some dots in her overactive imagination. The fact that she has even entertained the thought of Mingyu not only cheating on her but cheating on her with Miyeon of all people makes his blood boil.

“Why do you think I’m cheating on you? Why do you always just assume the worst about me? Do you think Vernon would ever let me even think about cheating on you? The man hates violence but he would beat my ass over you and we all know that.” The frown on Kamile’s face falters at the mention of her oldest friend. Mingyu is correct in saying that he would absolutely fight him, but there are still some thing that aren’t adding up. Yeojin attempts to halt the conversation so that they can delve deeper into what Mingyu just said but Kamile beats her to the punch.

“You come home smelling like warm vanilla sugar every night when everybody knows that I am a Japanese cherry blossom supremacist. What am I supposed to think, Mingyu?” She can’t believe that he has the audacity to sit next to her and still lie. The palms of her hands itch with the urge to throw things but she’s done enough of that plus this isn’t exactly her house either.

“Seokmin always sprays us down with some random perfume because he says it keeps the women away and honestly, it actually works like a charm so I’m always first in line to get sprayed.” Kamile’s anger deflates almost immediately. To anyone that doesn’t know Lee Seokmin that would sound like a crock of shit, but it’s perfectly on brand for him.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“We’re fucking married, Kamile. You could’ve just asked. Better yet you could have come with me to these events like I’ve asked you to do a million times.”

“You know I hate those things.”

“Everyone hates them, but I would hate them a lot less if I had you there with me. I just feel like I’ve been trying to make an effort but you’re not meeting me halfway.”

“I knew my Gyu Bear wasn’t a cheater!” Sidra, who hasn’t set a word since things had started to get heated, pipes up.

“God, Mom could you at least pretend that you love me more than him?” Kamile throws her hands up in frustration. Her mother’s obvious favoritism is really starting to get to her right now.

“Not until you start giving me less grief.”

“Now, now, Sid. Let’s not derail the progress we’re making here. Kamile, is there anything you’d like to bring to the table?” Yeojin pats her dear friend on the back of her hand to reign her back in. She’d hate to ruin the momentum they got going by having Kamile suddenly switch gears to argue with her mother.

Kamile is only too happy to tell her side of the story as she recounts the events of the night that she decided to leave Mingyu and how it was the tipping point for her. Yeojin listens intently, taking note of the fact that none of the issues that Kamile has with her husband are particularly heinous aside from the debunked cheating suspicions. Each transgression on it’s own wouldn’t be enough to end in divorce, but rather it’s the heaping pile of them that overwhelmed Kamile to the point that she felt she needed to get out.

The more she listens, the clearer it becomes to Yeojin that their marriage is suffering not because they don’t love one another but because they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other which has lead to an unfortunate disconnect. The biggest obstacle is definitely going to be Kamile’s determination to end things. She’s made up her mind and getting her to change her mind is not going to be easy.

“I think I’ve heard everything that I need to hear for today.” Yeojin sets her notepad down on her coffee table, relaxing in her chair a bit before she continues. “The first year in a marriage is usually the hardest, but that seems to have been exacerbated by the fact that the two of you have never lived together before now plus Kamile here has uprooted her entire life and moved to a new country.”

“Saving this marriage is going to take considerable effort on both sides in order to restore the balance you had before you said your vows. Here is what I recommend.”

Yeojin challenges the young couple to separate themselves from their daily lives for the next week and go somewhere remote. A place where it’s just the two of them without any outside influences. Of course, this won’t be just some run of the mill vacation. They’ll have “homework” of sorts that Yeojin will be checking to make sure they complete. Mingyu is all for it but Kamile is much more hesitant. All they’ve done is argue for the past few months and she’d rather not be stuck in a house arguing for two weeks straight.

“I’ve spent the past year stuck in a house with no outside influences and look at where that’s gotten me. On the verge of a fucking divorce!” Mingyu looks like he has something to say, but Yeojin thankfully stops him before he can rile his wife up any more than she already is.

“You’re not just going to be ‘stuck in a house’. Think of it like a game of Among Us. The two of you are crewmates and this wall that’s been built between you is the imposter.” Kamile looks at Yeojin as if she’s grown three extra heads. There’s no way she just related this counseling session to a freaking video game.

“I will also stop bugging you about grandkids for six months if you go.”

“You should’ve just started there. I’ll go.”

Yeojin claps her hands excitedly. She sounds way too happy to be shipping them off to self-guided marriage boot camp, but Kamile stays silent though that becomes increasingly difficult as her mother’s friends lists out the “tasks” she expects them to complete.

“So here’s the game plan, I want you two to be totally and completely honest with each other as much as possible for the entire time you’re gone. Often times in relationships, both parties will censor themselves as a way to keep the peace but that can be detrimental as it has been for you guys.” Mingyu and Kamile don’t realize it but they both frown simultaneously at the proposal of this honesty idea. Yeojin takes it as a positive sign that they are still in sync on some level.

“If the thought of doing it all day is too daunting, then start with just one hour. This doesn’t mean that you have to sit and stare at each other for a whole hour and trade statements just act normally but speak honestly. Okay so far?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Mingyu casts a glance in Kamile’s direction, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out to her. He’s had to stop himself several times since she arrived and it’s not getting any easier.

While Kamile’s mind is running wild with all of the potential for disaster that an hour of honesty could result in, Yeojin powers on with the rest of her required tasks. On top of separating themselves from society and this so called honest hour, Yeojin has mandated that they share at least one meal together every day with one of them being dinner on their wedding anniversary. Just when Kamile thought that Yeojin couldn’t possibly pile more on, she brings up the “activity days”. Each of them will have to plan some sort of activity for the two of them to do together while they’re away. It could be as big or as small as they want, but it has to be meaningful. Mingyu draws Kamile’s attention when he pulls his phone out of his back pocket to start tapping away on the screen like a mad man.

“You guys have a lot of preparing to do in order to be ready to leave tomorrow so we’ll stop here for today. I’ll be checking in on you daily to assess your progress and offer any guidance you may need.”

Kamile is out of her chair and halfway to the door before anyone can blink. The room suddenly feels too small as the gravity of what’s about to happen sinks in. She’d convinced herself that she no longer wanted to be married to Mingyu. She was so sure that her run as Mrs. Kim, albeit short as it was, had come to an end, but now she’s been confronted that her main reason for ending things was baseless. This is not how she thought things would go.

Day 1

The drive from the hotel to the home she’s shared with Mingyu for the past year goes way too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu had texted her about having to go gas up the rental car so he’s nowhere to be seen when Kamile arrives. She sits in the driveway for a few minutes thinking of the memories saturated into the home that looms before her. The memories she had hoped to create. A stray tear slips down her cheek and she swipes at it furiously. She swore that she was done shedding tears over this but they just keep on coming.

Her pity party is interrupted by an unfamiliar SUV pulling into the driveway behind her. Kamile looks in the mirror to see Mingyu getting out of the driver’s seat. She does her best to erase the evidence of her tears, but the look on his face when she opens her own door says that she wasn’t very successful.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine.” Kamile cuts him off before he can even finish his question. She stalks to the back of her car to start transferring her bags from her car to the behemoth of an SUV behind her.

“I’ll get them.” Mingyu takes the bag she’d already grabbed from Kamile’s hands, motioning to the passenger’s seat. Kamile, no longer in the mood to speak, wordlessly follows his directive and climbs into the SUV.

It takes Mingyu no time at all to load Kamile’s bags into the back with his own.

“Obviously this is a sign that we should just leave.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to let a lost set of keys stand between me and keeping my marriage.”

“Why do you even care? Why are we even doing this?” Kamile screams. She’s been holding this in for far too long and she can’t take it anymore.

“For better or for worse.” Mingyu’s face is a mask of carefully controlled fury and it’s giving Kamile pause. She’s never seen him like this before. “We promised each other for better or for worse and yet you’re ready to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble. I’ll admit that I’m not perfect and certainly played a role in why we’re here but I’m willing to put in the work to make it better because those vows meant something to me. I thought they meant something to you too.”

Kamile is incredibly taken aback at Mingyu’s fervent desire to stay married. She didn’t think that he cared that much anymore. Without any further protest, she joins him in the hunt for the elusive key to the front door. Fifteen minutes pass and they are no closer to gaining entry than they were when they first arrived. A rep with the rental company calls as they’re checking the bottom of the flower pots that line the front porch and tells them that the keys were mistakenly put in the mailbox. The same mailbox that sits at the end of the mile long driveway. Kamile makes to get back in the car to drive to the end of the driveway but Mingyu suggests walking it.

“It would be faster in the car.”

“You heard that therapist lady. We’re supposed to be spending time together. What better way to do it than by walking two miles?” Kamile walks back and forth as she considers her options. She can resist which will probably lead to yet another fight or she can just suck it up and walk to the mailbox. With a groan, she makes her decision.

“Fine, but if I get tired you’re carrying me.”

“Anything for you, my lady.” He bows deeply which almost makes Kamile crack a smile. She steels her resolve quickly though and reminds herself not to get caught up in his antics. He’s going to have to do a lot more than make her laugh in order to get out of the dog house.

The walk to the mailbox and back is quiet for the most part. Their footfalls join the hum of the wildlife in the woods that line the driveway on either side, but the jokes and playful jabs that used to fill the air between them is noticeably absent. Neither one is sure of what to say or do around the other anymore. Thankfully, the key is hanging on a hook inside the rather large mailbox.

Mingyu fully expected for Kamile to ask to be carried on the way back. She’s never been a huge fan of physical activity so it doesn’t come as a surprised to him when she starts whining halfway back to the cabin.

“I can’t do it just leave me here with my flower friends. I’ll become one with the forest.” Mingyu wordlessly moves to crouch down in front of her. He’s thankful that she can’t see his face to save himself the embarrassment of having to explain why he’s so excited to carry her for the last half mile to the end of the driveway.

Kamile doesn’t hesitate a single second to climb onto his back, clinging to him like a koala. It’s not lost on either one of them that this is the most physical contact they’ve had with each other in months. She’s wrapped around him tight enough that he doesn’t need to support her thighs, but he does it anyway. No way in hell is going to let this moment pass by without taking full advantage.

They opt to spend the rest of the day just getting settled in. Yeojin had encouraged them to share a bedroom but Kamile is not down with that. Mingyu is disappointed when she wheels her suitcase into one of the guest bedrooms but he takes solace in the fact that she’s chosen the one right across the master where he’d dropped his things hoping she’d follow. He hopes that at some point in the next few days she’ll finally share a bed with him again.

Dinner ends up being Thai takeout. Kamile has to admit that she’s impressed when Mingyu is able to rattle off her usual order with practiced ease. There once was a time when they’d get Thai food together all the time, but they’re so far removed from that time that she was sure he’d have forgotten by now. They eat without a single word exchanged before going their separate ways to bed.

Day 2

Mingyu wakes up before the sun despite the fact that he slept all of two hours the night before. His hands are on the verge of trembling from all of the nervous energy coursing through his body. Today is the official first day of marriage bootcamp and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s barely seven so there’s no way that Kamile has even attempted to get out of bed yet. Like a thief in the night, Mingyu creeps down the hall to peek into the bedroom that she had claimed as her own. A small smile graces his face at the cute way she hugs one of the throw pillows to her chest. It falters a little when his brain reminds him that she used to hug him close to her like that and not a pillow, but he shoves that depressing thought away for now. He has work to do.

The smell of bacon rouses Kamile from sleep, luring her down the stairs. She grunts a greeting at the man currently tending to a pan of scrambled eggs as she reaches for the stack of bacon on the counter to his left. Mingyu is quick to swat her hand away before she can secure her bounty.

“The eggs are almost done. Be patient.” Kamile whines at being chastised, scowling at the back of Mingyu’s head with disdain.

In the midst of her grumbling, she finally takes notice of his attire or the lack thereof. Saliva pools in her mouth at the sight of his muscles flexing as he cooks the eggs. Her gaze moves lower to his trim waist and the pair of gray sweatpants hanging from said waist in a way that has no business being as attractive as it is. Her fingers twitch with the urge to slide her hands beneath the waistband of those sweatpants to get at that prize she knows is there but she keeps them to herself.

“Earth to Kamile.” Mingyu chants as he waves a spatula in front of her face. She blinks rapidly, doing her best to clear the thick fog of arousal from her mind. The uncomfortable sensation of her panties sticking to her skin is quickly forgotten when Mingyu holds up a plate peeled high with bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes.

“Thanks, Gyu.” Kamile murmurs as she takes the proffered plate and heads for the table. She falters half a step when she realizes that she’s let his nickname slip. She prays that he didn’t notice and if he did, she prays he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Gyu? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Looks like that prayer went unanswered. The shit eating grin on Mingyu’s face makes her itch.

“I’m hungry and thankful. Don’t push it.”

They eat in silence. The only sounds are their forks as they make contact with their plates. Mingyu is kicking himself in the ass for not saying anything but his brain is short circuiting. Thankfully, the buzzing from the intercom by the front door signaling that someone is at the front gate. It’s the special grocery delivery he’d requested for the first of their planned activity days.

“What’s all this for?” Kamile asks curiously. She pokes through a few of the bags to see fresh strawberries and a variety of other fruits along with a very large bag of rice cakes.

“I was thinking we could have a picnic today for our first planned activity.” His heart races as he waits for Kamile’s reaction to his idea. She munches on a piece of bacon as she continues to pull things out of bags.

“I dig it.” Mingyu feels weak with relief at his idea being well-received. “Why so many rice cakes though?”

“You’ve been a tteokbeokki fiend since we met. Didn’t see the point in depriving you while we’re here if I could just make it for you.” Kamile groans at the thought. She’s more than capable of feeding her own addiction with the spicy rice cake dish, but she’s never been able to make it as good as Mingyu. Despite the fact that she just ate, she contemplating requesting that he make a batch of it right now.

Mingyu grabs a knife to start chopping up some of the fruit. Kamile takes a seat at the island across from him, propping her chin in her hand as she watches him work. She’s always loved watching him cook almost as much as eating the food he makes. She can’t even remember the last time that she was able to do this. It feels like a lifetime ago. Her eyes with sparkle with fascination watching him prepare the food for their picnic.

“Open up.” Mingyu holds a strawberry up to her lips and Kamile opens her mouth without hesitation. The berry is perfectly ripe and so juicy that a stream of it runs down her chin. Mingyu reaches out to swipe it away, licking the liquid from his thumb.

“Tasty.” Kamile squirms in her seat at the way his lips wrap around his thumb. Time for her to make an escape before she does something crazy like fuck her husband in someone else’s kitchen.

Mingyu watches Kamile hastily retreat with barely concealed glee. He’d thought that she’d stopped being attracted to him, but that is incorrect if the results of the little experiment he’d decided to conduct are to be believed. He smiles to himself as he continues cutting up fruit. There might be hope for them yet.

After agonizing longer than he should have over the best spot to set up their little picnic, Mingyu finally picks a spot. He’s so focused on how best to arrange everything on the blanket that he doesn’t even notice Kamile creeping up behind him. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when she clears her throat much to Kamile’s amusement.

“Did I scare you?” It’s clear to her that she did, but making him admit it is too good for her to pass up.

“No…maybe.” Kamile hums in response, kneeling across from him on the blanket. “That dress is really pretty on you.”

“Thank you.” She mumbles in response. It’s been so long since she’s heard any sort of praise or compliment from Mingyu that she doesn’t even know how to respond anymore. It almost feels brand new.

Eager to rid herself of the awkwardness blooming in her chest, Kamile grabs a fork and shoves what she thinks is a potato straight in her mouth. In her haste, she fails to realize that the potato she thought she had is actually an onion. Mingyu doubles over with laughter at the pure disgust painted across Kamile’s face. She desperately wants to spit it out but she was raised to believe that spitting out perfectly good food is only a half step below a sin so she powers through. She chugs one of the glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade on the small tray to her right as Mingyu continues to cackle at her plight.

“You set me up for failure.” Kamile has hated onions from the womb according to the stories her mother told about the smell of onions making her nauseous for her entire pregnancy. Mingyu must pay for this.

“I purposely cut them big enough for you to easily pick them out. You weren’t supposed to eat them.” Mingyu defends himself breathily as he tries desperately to stop laughing. Kamile reaches out to punch him in the arm which only serves to make him laugh harder.

Silence falls over them again although, unlike breakfast this morning, they’re able to exchange some small talk here and there. The awkwardness that they’d started off with wanes and wanes until they’re left comfortably enjoying each other’s presence for the first time in a long time.

Mingyu finds himself unable to take his eyes off of Kamile. He’d meant it when he’d said that the yellow sundress she’s wearing looked pretty on her. It compliments the rich mahogany of her skin as if it was made especially for her. The plethora of curls that he’s always loved are full of life as she bobs her head side to side, one of her many habits that Mingyu has always adored. His chest feels tight with the weight of his love for her. He can’t believe that he nearly let her slip away.

“You’re staring, Mingyu.” Kamile says between bites of the strawberry she’d grabbed. Mingyu opens his mouth to answer when a distant rumble beats him to the punch.

“Oh shit.”

The two of them hastily toss the near empty dishes back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds are steadily rolling in with the speed of a bullet train. Just when they think they might be able to make it back into the house, their luck runs out. The rain comes down in sheets, drenching them in seconds. Kamile is so thankful that the lack of pockets on her dress lead to her choosing to leave her phone inside.

Kamile is the worst mood when they finally reach the safety of the house. She just went through the stress and physical exhaustion of wash day two days ago and now she has to do it all over again five days ahead of schedule.

“Did you not check the fucking weather before you decided to turn us into sitting ducks outside?” She seethes. Mingyu arches a brow in confusion at her sudden mood swing.

“Of course I did. It was supposed to be nothing but sunshine all week.”

“Well, clearly that was a lie but I’ve grown to accept that from you. Now I’ve got to go suffer through wash day ahead of schedule.” Mingyu winces at her words, but he’s nothing if not an opportunist so he chooses to ignore it in favor of jumping on the more important statement Kamile just made.

“Can I help you with your hair?” He asks as he follows his grumpy wife up the staircase. She pauses outside her room to fix him with a glare.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? I’ve always helped you with your hair.” In his mind, this isn’t a huge request. The Kamile he knew used to be only too happy to allow him to hand over her hair products for him to do her extensive wash day routine for her. He’d actually gotten so good at it that he’d even started doing her younger sisters’ hair whenever he was in the states to visit.

“I barely know who you are anymore and you expect me to let you touch my hair? Not a chance in hell.” Kamile’s voice climbs in volume until she’s practically yelling.

The last thing Mingyu wants to do today is fight, but enough is enough. Their screams echo through the spacious house as they go back and forth over Kamile’s mistrust of Mingyu. He doesn’t get it and she thinks it’s incredibly shocking that he doesn’t. Kamile’s phone rings somewhere in the bedroom she has yet to enter, effectively interrupting their spat. She leaves Mingyu in the hallway in favor of answering it and groans out loud when she sees that it’s a FaceTime call from Yeojin. She’d forgotten all about the daily check-ins that the therapist had mentioned she’d be conducting. She goes back out to the hallway and drags Mingyu with her to the staircase so they can get this call over with without ruining the carpet in her room.

“Hello, love birds! How’s everything going?” Yeojin chirps once the call connects. Her hopeful smile falters slightly when she sees the sour looks on her clients’ faces.

Mingyu is only too happy to give the attentive marriage counselor a full rundown of what was happening before she called. Kamile scowls at him the entire time. To hear him tell it, she’s the bad guy but anyone with common sense would’ve left her alone after she’d made it perfectly clear that she was not in the mood to have a conversation. She can’t wait for Yeojin to drag him therapeutically for not picking up on that.

“Kamile, what do you think lead to you lashing out like that? The rain was not his fault.” The woman in question is thrown off when the outcome she was expecting doesn’t come to fruition.

“He should’ve checked the weather before deciding to have a picnic outside but that’s neither here nor there. I feel like I made it very clear that I didn’t want to talk to him and yet he kept pressing the issue.” Kamile can’t believe that she has to defend herself. Mingyu is so hasty with responding that it sounds like a keyboard smash is coming out of his mouth.

“I would like to make it known that I did not say one word to you when we came back inside until you started yelling at me.” He looks incredibly smug as he watches Kamile’s mouth open and close as she tries to think of a way to refute his statement. “I would also like to make it known that I have been obsessive about every detail of this picnic and I would have never had it outside if there was even a slight chance that it might rain. Maybe if you had a little more faith in me you could see that.”

“And that brings me to my next point.” Yeojin begins. “We’ve established that the infidelity was a myth, so why do you continue to hold on to that mistrust, Kamile? I want you to really think about it and be completely honest with both us and yourself. I’m not saying that whatever you’re feeling is wrong because you are entitled to feel that way but I think it would be good for the both of you if why you feel that way is better understood.”

The theme of the day continues to be silence as Kamile ponders the question put before her. She’s mature enough to admit that not trusting Mingyu while also admitting that she believes him when he says that he didn’t cheat is contradictory. The root of that contradiction is something she’s been trying to avoid ever since she got roped into that surprise therapy session. Mingyu’s alleged infidelity had been her out. Her escape. She had cut and run on the back of a false truth and that reality is something that’s been hard for her to process. Tears well up in Kamile's eyes as she thinks back to Mingyu’s rant about their wedding vows when they’d first arrived. She’d thought that everything was his fault and being forced to face the truth is difficult. Mingyu’s harsh glare softens as he reaches out to wipe the tears from her face as they start to fall. He sighs when she pulls away from him.

“I can see that I’ve found a sore spot so I won’t press this any further today. We’ll revisit this in the future.” Yeojin gives them some tips on how to better communicate before she ends the call.

Kamile is only too happy to end the call so she can lock herself in her room. She doesn’t even come back out for dinner despite Mingyu all but begging outside of her door. He’s not sure what mental dots she connected when they were talking to Yeojin, but whatever it was seems to have upset her more than he’d originally thought.

A weather alert comes through on Mingyu’s phone as he watches TV downstairs. Apparently the storm that had snuck up on them earlier is part of a much larger system of severe weather that changed course and is expected to hang around the area for the next day or two. His first thought is Kamile. She’s terrified of thunderstorms. Always has been.

He thinks back to a time before they started dating when Kamile was just Vernon’s pretty American friend that he had a huge crush on. She had come to Korea to visit and insisted on sleeping on the couch despite the fact that everyone tried to give up their room for her. Much like today, a nasty storm rolled in and in her panicked state she had accidentally ended up in his room instead of Vernon’s. The realization had been comical and she’d tried to leave to go to the right room, but a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to shake the whole building sent her diving into his arms where she stayed for the rest of the night. She slept through a thunderstorm for the first time in her life that night. A selfish part of him hopes that this storm brings him the same luck he had all those years ago.

Day 3

Heavy rain beats against the window like a prize fighter while thunder rattles Kamile’s brain until she feels like screaming. There aren’t many things that strike true fear in her heart, but thunderstorms are definitely somewhere in the top five things on that list. She’s got her headphones in and her music blasting, but it does very little to drown out the war going on outside. She rips the blankets from her body and makes for the bedroom door to go get in bed with Mingyu but like the fifty other times she’s attempted to do that she stops herself in the hallway. The door shuts with a soft click as she seals herself back in her own personal hell.

Kamile jolts awake not even aware of when she had even managed to fall asleep. Sweat has glued her clothes to her skin and it’s making her skin crawl the longer she lays there. She groans aloud when she hears the rain still beating against the window pane. The alarm clock on the nightstand says that it’s just barely six in the morning which means it’s been exactly one hour since she apparently passed out from exhaustion. A rumble off in the distance lets her know that she probably won’t be getting more sleep any time soon so she drags herself to the bathroom for a shower.

Freshly showered and in desperate need of caffeine, Kamile makes for the kitchen. Mingyu’s bare back comes into view for the second consecutive morning when she rounds the corner. His hair is sticking up in odd directions and he looks to be five seconds from falling asleep standing up as he stabs at the buttons on the coffee maker.

“Why are you up so early?”

“You need coffee.” He replies with a yawn.

“Yeah, but I can make it myself. You didn’t need to lose sleep to make me coffee.” She protests. Mingyu turns to glare at her until Kamile raises her hands in surrender.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” Kamile shakes her head at him as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet. No sense in arguing with him when he’s clearly made up his mind about suffering.

The two of them sit in silence side by side, sipping their coffee, and staring out the window watching Mother Nature do her thing. Out of habit, Kamile leans over to rest her head on MIngyu’s shoulder. She stiffens when she realizes what she’s doing. Mingyu holds his breath. Scared that if he makes any sudden movements the bubble will burst and she’ll move away from him. She surprises the both of them when she lets the tension drain from her shoulders instead, relaxing into him.

“I’m sorry.” Kamile whispers into the void. If Mingyu wasn’t so acutely focused on her every move, he probably wouldn’t have even heard it over the wind.

“Me too.” He turns his head to softly kiss the top of her head, taking a moment to inhale the familiar scent of her hair products. He never knew it was possible to miss a singular smell so much.

They’ve exchanged exactly four words since they sat down at the table, but they mean so much. There’s a near palpable shift in the air. Like a switch has flipped. An unspoken truce between them that they are in this together. Kamile lifts her head to finish her coffee and Mingyu immediately misses the weight of her head on his shoulder.

“Did you ever finish watching The Originals?” Kamile asks before downing the last of her coffee.

“No, it was kind of our thing so I haven’t watched it since we stopped watching it together.” She hums in response.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck in this house all day so we may as well pick up where we left off.” Mingyu nearly chokes on his coffee. He can’t even remember the last time Kamile willingly suggested that they spend time together. He pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming which she rolls her eyes at.

“Come on. You’re in charge of snacks.”

For the next eight hours, their butts are glued to the couch. They only get up to use the bathroom and replenish their snack pile. They’ve spent so much of their time arguing that Kamile had forgotten how much she loved just being with Mingyu. Klaus is about to rain down hellfire on some of his enemies when Mingyu’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his sweatpants. Kamile can feel it against her own thigh and it’s only then that she realizes the way that they’ve gravitated towards each other over the course of the day. If she were to get any closer to him, she’d be sitting in his lap. Mingyu had intended to ignore the call, thinking it might be someone from the company despite his strict instructions not to contact him, but he answers it instead when he sees that it’s Yeojin.

“Well don’t you two look cozy. I was planning to pick up where we left off yesterday, but I’d rather talk about this first.” Yeojin looks entirely too smug as she brings attention to the lack of space between the two of them. Mingyu half expects Kamile to scoot away from him now that it’s been pointed out just how close they are, but she stays put.

“Can’t a girl just sit next to her husband without being questioned to death?” Kamile asks playfully. Yeojin chuckles and moves on with their daily check in.

“Fine, fine I’ll leave it alone. Let’s get down to business. Mingyu we didn’t get to hear from you a lot yesterday so I’d like to get into how you felt when Kamile left. What was that like for you?” Yeojin rests her chin on her hand as she waits to see what’s going to come out of the box of emotions she just opened.

Mingyu briefly realizes that this is the first time he’s talked about that day to anyone as he recounts that dark morning like the nightmare it was. Kamile listens in stunned silence while he tells his story. After seeing the bags under his eyes at Yeojin’s house, she’d figured that he’d suffered just like she had, but she’d never imagined that waking up to find her rings and the note she’d left had affected him to the extent that it did. The guilt that’s been festering in her gut increases tenfold at the thought of him heaving into the toilet.

“I knew things weren’t the greatest but I truly did believe that we were strong enough to get through whatever. Divorce never crossed my mind even once so it killed me to know that it had not only crossed her mind but became a viable option that she ran with. I get why she thought that was the best option now, but then it felt like I’d been blindsided.” Mingyu explains. His words are laced with the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. Kamile picks at the words screen printed down one of the legs of her sweatpants wishing that a hold would open beneath her and swallow her up. She’s never felt so low.

“Kamile, I see you’re getting emotional. What are you feeling right now?” Yeojin gently pries. Mingyu pulls Kamile into him as his own emotions start getting the better of him. Yeojin is pleased to note that, unlike yesterday, Kamile doesn’t snatch away from him.

“I was so focused on how unhappy I was that I didn’t consider anything else. It was all about me, me, me.” Kamile stares off into space as she opens up. She’s never talked about this with anyone but her best friends. In hindsight, they might not be sitting where they are right if she’d just talked to Mingyu about it ages ago but then again hindsight is always 20/20. “I visited Korea plenty of times when we were dating, but living here as the black wife of an idol has been so hard. Being from America, I’m used to people treating me different because of my skin color but when people feel entitled to be so invasive about it because of who I’m married to…it’s different.”

Mingyu’s jaw is on the floor as he listens to the struggles that his wife was having right under his nose and he never knew. He noticed that she’d become more withdrawn and hostile but he could never figure out why and she wouldn’t tell him when he asked. It comes as no surprise to him now that she stopped going outside. He can’t exactly blame her. Seventeen is going on their eighth year so Mingyu is a seasoned veteran at ignoring the things people say on the internet. Unfortunately, Kamile didn’t have that luxury. His stomach turns at the tales of her being approached on the street by people who wrongly called themselves fans thinking they were protecting him. The racist comments made about her online. She was suffering and he just let it go on thinking that she was just being moody.

“Do you think that caused you to develop a little resentment for Mingyu and his idol status?”

Kamile’s first instinct is to say no, but given that they are supposed to be as honest possible she tamps down the lie before it can slip out. She did resent that she’d fallen for someone with such great public notoriety sometimes. It was different when she was just one of Vernon’s childhood friends. The general public didn’t really care what she did from day to day, but now one wrong move turns her into a trending topic and she doesn’t know how to handle it. There are days that she wishes that Mingyu was just a normal person, but then they would have never met and that’s not a reality she truly wants to live in despite her feelings towards him when she walked out.

“Maybe a little bit but I know we’d have never met if he wasn’t Mingyu from Seventeen so it’s pointless really.”

They talk with Yeojin a little while longer before she has to go to her next appointment. The air between them is heavy with the weight of the secrets that have come to light. It’s a stifling atmosphere and it’s beginning to drive Kamile insane. She reaches for the remote to restart their show, but Mingyu takes it from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” His eyes are misty as he struggles to hold himself back from crying once more. He could kick himself for not doing his best to shield her from the people that had killed her spirit.

“You’re already so busy and the last thing I wanted to do was add to everything else on your plate.” Mingyu wants to scream. She means more to him than being an idol. She always has. He cups her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Promise me that you won’t hold stuff inside like that anymore and I promise to be better at not letting you. Deal?”

“Deal.” Kamile’s eyes flutter closed as Mingyu pulls away to press his lips to her forehead.

He clears his throat before grabbing the remote to resume their show. For the next few hours, conversation is limited to the messy lives of the supernatural beings on the screen before them. The wind still howls. The rain is unceasing. Yet in the little bubble of Netflix and snacks that they’ve created, it may as well not even exist.

Until bedtime that is.

“You know,” Mingyu says as they file up the stairs. The seemingly ever present bad weather still continues, “…you don’t have to sleep alone. I know you don’t like storms.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” It would be so easy to take him up on his offer. She could finally get some sleep, but for whatever reason she can’t bring herself to do it.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind. Good night, Kamile.”

“Good night, Mingyu.”

Kamile stares at the ceiling in despair. She didn’t think it was possible for the storm to get worse but apparently Mother Nature took that as a challenge. She’s starting to genuinely concerned about whether or not the window by her bed can withstand the force of the weather it’s being forced to deal with. Kamile contemplates running to Mingyu’s room but shuts that idea down for the millionth time. Things feel...different between them after today’s call with Yeojin but she’s not sure if they’ve been different enough to justify hopping into bed with him quite yet.

“This is fine. I don’t need to sleep.” She whispers into the void.

She’s accepted her fate and made peace with it. Or at least that’s what she thought she’d done. A crack of lighting illuminates the room despite the blackout curtains over the window followed by a thunderous boom so loud it seems to vibrate her very being. Kamile is across the hall before she even has the time to process what she’s doing. Mingyu is out cold when she bursts into the room. Her brain chooses that moment to catch up to what she’s doing and flips on the switch of self-consciousness. Another loud boom has her throwing caution to the wind once more, sliding beneath the blanket to get as close to him as possible without waking him up.

Kamile lays next to him a trembling anxious mess as the storm rages on. She’s so consumed by her own fear that she doesn’t even notice the man next to her has roused from sleep until he’s wrapped both of his arms around her to pull her into his warm chest. It’s as if the environmental warfare outside ceases to exist the second Kamile’s cheek makes contact with Mingyu’s skin. His presence drowns everything out just like it did all those years ago. The sleep that had been evading her comes quickly in his embrace.

Day 4

A ray of sunlight shines perfectly through a crack in the curtain to hit Kamile square in the face. She squirms around trying to escape it and gets a frustrated groan in response. It’s then that she registers the weight of the arm that rests loosely across her midsection. The memory of running to Mingyu’s bed in the middle of the night comes rushing back to her. Her first instinct is to bolt, but she’s so touch starved that she finds herself turning in his hold in a bid to get closer.

“Good morning.” Mingyu grunts something in response that she’s sure he thought sounded like good morning.

He slots one of his legs between hers and unintentionally allows her to feel the morning wood barely contained by his boxer briefs. Mingyu’s even breathing indicates that he’s fallen back asleep. Kamile would love to do the same but all of her attention is laser focused on the hardened appendage intimately pressed against her upper thigh. A damp spot has already started forming in her panties. She needs to get out of this bed now. Kamile squirms and wiggles around trying to get away, but it would seem that her efforts are having the opposite effect. A throaty groan slips from Mingyu’s lips.

“Stop moving.” He mumbles still half asleep. Kamile does her best to stop fidgeting and focus her attention elsewhere, but it’s not working. Her inner muscles clench around nothing as thoughts of what Mingyu could do to her dance dangerously through her mind.

“I have to pee.” Mingyu cracks one eye open. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that he doesn’t believe her for a second but he releases her anyway. He sighs as he watches her run off to the en suite bathroom.

Mingyu is noticeably absent when Kamile emerges from the bathroom fresh off a rushed orgasm though hardly sated. She follows the scent of coffee downstairs to find Mingyu bent over digging through one of the crisper drawers in the refrigerator. Back before everything went to shit she would’ve slapped his ass with glee and run away before he could exact his revenge. Good times.

“Did you hear what I said?” Kamile was so focused on his ass that she hadn’t even registered the fact that Mingyu had said anything.

“Huh?”

“I said do you want to get in the hot tub later since we can go outside now?” He repeats as he hands over a cup of coffee already milky and sweet the way she likes it.

“It’s almost 80 degrees outside and you want to get in a hot tub?” She questions slowly to which Mingyu responds with an emphatic yes. “Be honest. Are you just trying to see me in a bikini?”

“Absolutely.” He giggles when Kamile reaches out to smack him on the arm. “Why are you attacking me? Yeojin said we have to be honest at all times.”

“I don’t think that included being a horny little shit.”

“I’m a man with eyes and a hot wife. I can’t help.” Despite the compliment, Kamile’s mood sours at his words. Mingyu’s freshly honed observation skills picks up on it immediately.

“Uh oh, did I say something wrong?”

“If I’m so hot, then why haven’t we had sex in four months? We used to go at it like rabbits and then one day you just stopped initiating things.”

Mingyu is quick to point out that he did try to have sex with her plenty of times, but she pushed him away. Eventually, he gave up. It’s almost funny when the dots start connecting in her head. Her personal struggles had originally been why she denied him sex, but then he’d started coming home doused in perfume so she really didn’t want anything to do with him then. Mingyu has never been a very pushy person so he figured he’d just wait her out. He didn’t think that he’d end up in a four month dry spell (and counting), but he was also not about to look for satisfaction outside of his marriage either.

“How about we save this sex talk until after I’m finished cooking? All of the blood in my body is rushing south and these rice cakes are starting to look like nipples.” Kamile nearly chokes on the water she’d just taken a sip of. Tears pour from her eyes as her body can’t decide if it wants to laugh or die of asphyxiation.

“Woah, woah! When we said till death do us part I was hoping we’d be farting dust not barely 26.” Kamile is sure that he wants her dead now as her internal war between laughing and choking only gets worse.

Despite her earlier protests, Kamile finds herself seated across from Mingyu in the hot tub later that evening as they watch the sun set. She fully expects him to try something from the way his eyes keep drifting south to stare at her chest, but he’s on his best behavior the entire time.

Day 5

“Hello, love birds! I missed you two yesterday. What happened?” Yeojin looks hesitant almost as if she’s scared of their answer. She looks downright relieved to hear that they missed her call because they fell asleep cuddling on the couch. After getting a run down of everything that’s happened since they last spoke, she encourages them to continue sleeping in the same bed together.

“Couples often downplay the amount of good that just being physically close to your partner can be. If you’re both comfortable sleeping next to each other without a thunderstorm being the driving force, please keep doing it.” Yeojin pleads before ending the call to go to her next appointment.

Her words hang in the air even after she’s gone. Mingyu looks over at Kamile with a questioning look on his face. It’s clear that he’s after her opinion on this whole shared bed situation, but Kamile doesn’t have much to say on the matter. The two of them have been pretty much inseparable during the day now, but she’s still nervous about sleeping in the same bed together and she doesn’t know how to shake that feeling. She was too scared to think about it last night but without the weather to distract her she’s not so sure if sit’s a good idea.

“What’s going on in there?” Mingyu taps a finger against Kamile’s temple to get her attention. She shakes her head but he’s got a feeling it’s about what Yeojin’s bed sharing idea.

“If this is about sharing a bed, don’t worry about. You’ve got the rest of the day to decide.” She nods in acknowledgement of his point but Mingyu can tell that the gears in her head are turning even faster than before. Her overthinking is going to give her a headache.

Night time comes entirely too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu has kept her so busy that she hasn’t had the time to sit down to sort through her thoughts. Knowing him, he probably did that on purpose. He always hated her habit of overthinking everything, preferring to live in the moment and make decisions as they arose. Kamile has never had much success doing that which is why they work so well together. He balances her out and helps her weed out the important aspects of the topic at hand to make faster decisions.

Her mind is racing as they climb the stairs on their way to bed. Mingyu stops at the door to his bedroom and looks at her with such hope on his face that she almost feels guilty for what she’s about to say. His face falls when Kamile tells him that she thinks it’s better for them to sleep in their own respective rooms tonight. Mingyu is a good sport about it, bidding her good night with a lingering kiss to her forehead.

Falling asleep has never been a problem for Mingyu which is why he’s utterly confused when he’s still wide awake three hours after getting into bed. He’s in danger of pulling the sheets off of the mattress on one side from how much he’s been tossing and turning.

This is bullshit. I’ve been sleeping fine every night. What’s the difference now?

Mingyu sits up to fluff his pillows. It doesn’t help. He kicks the ceiling fan up a notch. That doesn’t help either. He counts sheep, ducks, and even cows, but nothing is working. The longer he tries to avoid the obvious the more awake he seems to be. Sleeping in the guest room most nights to avoid arguing had taught him to sleep alone. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold her again, he’s ruined. He wonders briefly if Kamile is awake too. Is she just as restless too?

He tosses and turns for the better part of another hour. The clock on his phone says that 3 a.m is quickly approaching and Mingyu caves. It takes less than ten seconds to cross the hall to her room, but practicing his explanation as to why he’s in her room at ass o’clock in the morning takes much longer. He knocks twice and pokes his head in.

“Kam?”

“You can’t sleep either, huh?” She asks without even turning to look at the man poking his head into her bedroom.

Mingyu nearly collapses from sheer relief when Kamile simply reaches behind herself to lift the blankets after he confirms that he’s been unable to fall asleep just like her. He wastes no time sliding in behind her. Before he can even get it out of his mouth to ask, Kamile reaches back to find his arm, pulling it across her waist.

“Good night, Gyu.” Kamile whispers. Her words are slurred as if she’s already half asleep. Mingyu kisses her shoulder, letting his lips linger against her skin.

“Good night, Kam.”

Day 6

A feather light touch to her lower lip is what prompts Kamile to open her eyes long before she’s ready. She pulls back slightly once her vision clears and she realizes just how close Mingyu’s face is to her own. He even has the audacity to laugh at her surprise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He’s not sure how long he’s been watching her sleep, but he’d do it for the rest of his days. The pesky organ in his chest skips a beat as he holds Kamile’s gaze like a lifeline. He mulls over his next words very carefully, preparing for a possible rejection just as he did when he came to her room in the middle of night. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.” She whispers into the inch of space that separates them.

Mingyu closed the gap slowly as if he’s giving her time to change her mind. Kamile sighs when his lips finally touch hers. One of his hands comes up to untie the silk scarf tied protectively around her head so that he can bury his hand in the curls he’s always been obsessed with. He uses his grip on her to guide her head as he deepens the kiss.

She rolls onto her back and pulls him with her so that his much larger frame nearly covers hers entirely. Mingyu lets his primal instincts take over. Too lost in the way her lips are moving against his own. A groan rattles his chest when she squirms beneath him until his hips are situated between her thighs. The thin fabric of their respective underwear are the only barriers separating his aching erection from the place she needs him most. He can’t resist the urge to grind himself against her. If his brain wasn’t so clouded in lust, he’d probably have the mental capacity to feel a little embarrassed at just how quickly he’s risen to full mast. Kamile is floating somewhere beyond cloud nine when Mingyu’s hand that had been cradling her head moves to lightly grip her throat instead while the other rhythmically squeezes and pushes at her ass in time with his thrusts. Her head is tipped back in ecstasy as he kisses along her jaw.

It takes a herculean effort that he wasn’t totally sure he was even capable of, but Mingyu separates himself from the panting woman in his arms. He rocks back on his heels and Kamile’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tantalizing bulge at the apex of his shapely thighs. She reaches for him but Mingyu grabs her wrist before she can get her hands on him. He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing kisses to the back of it.

“Trust me when I say that I would love nothing more than to ravage you right now but if I’m going to be inside you again, I want you to have my ring on your finger.” Kamile starts to speak but stops when Mingyu presses his index finger to her lips. He traces the outline of her kiss swollen lips almost as if he’s in a trance. “I don’t want you to make a decision that you’re not totally comfortable with just because you’re horny. I want you to really want it. I want you to really want us. Now get up so I can feed you.”

A vulgar comment about what she really wants him to feed her crosses Kamile’s mind as Mingyu playfully swats at her thighs to get her moving. She respects his resolve and keeps it to herself but only barely.

“It’s super nice outside. Wanna go for a walk?” Kamile would actually rather stay inside and enjoy the comforts of the air-conditioning, but Mingyu looks so excited that she finds herself giving in. She disappears upstairs to put on her sneakers mentally kicking herself for being so whipped for the man waiting for her by the patio door.

Mingyu laces his fingers between Kamile’s

They happen across a small stream during their casual stroll around the property. Kamile stops to look at Mingyu to see if he’s on the same wavelength as her.

“Let’s do it.”

Their shoes are abandoned under a tree near the creek before running full speed into the water. The cooler temperature of the water feels like heaven. Kamile squeals when Mingyu splashes her with water. Mingyu suddenly lifts her over his shoulder, using the hand that’s not holding on to her to splash Kamile with more water. She’s out of breath from laughing when he finally lets her down only to steal the rest of her breath away when he surprises her with a kiss.

“What was that for?” She’s slightly dazed both from the lack of oxygen and the searing kiss he’s just laid on her.

“Because.” He smirks at her before swooping in for yet another kiss.

“And that one?”

“Because part two.” Kamile giggles at his corniness even though she does her best not to give him the satisfaction of knowing it gets to her. Mingyu’s smile somehow gets even bigger at the sound of her laughter. He digs his fingers into his sides to prolong her laughter for his own enjoyment.

They spend a little longer frolicking around before finally heading back to the house to shower and start on dinner. Kamile unsuccessfully lobbies to shower together but Mingyu is adamant in his refusal. He’s positive that the self-control he exhibited earlier that morning used up all the restraint he could’ve ever hoped to have for the next six months. There’s no way he’d be able to deny her. He kisses her quickly before running off to his own bathroom.

Mingyu is totally and completely in love. He absentmindedly pushes his food around with his fork as he listens to Kamile rant about the mistreatment and near erasure of some X-Men character named Darwin. He’s got absolutely no idea what she’s talking about but she’s so passionate about it that he can’t help being fascinated.

“Darwin’s whole entire superpower was that he could adapt to anything and you mean to tell me that robots designed to adapt to and counteract the powers of mutants were built off of Mystique’s DNA? Absolutely not. I might be a little-” Her rant is cut short by her phone ringing on the kitchen counter where she’d left it. She grumbles about being interrupted as she gets up to go get it. It’s Yeojin.

Kamile returns to the table with her phone, choosing to sit in Mingyu’s lap for their daily check-in. The marriage counselor should get a kick out of that one. Sure enough, their seating arrangement is the first thing that Yeojin comments on. They take turns updating her on everything that’s occurred since they last spoke with her though they leave out some of the more sordid details.

“This is what I like to hear!” She exclaims with an excited clap of her hands. “It seems that everything is going well right now. Is there anything we haven’t talked about this week that one of you wants to go over? If not, I’m comfortable ending the call here.” They say their goodbyes after confirming that they feel like they’re in a good place right now. Yeojin makes them swear to call her the moment they think they need her but she doubts that she’ll be hearing from them until their follow-up appointment in a few days.

Kamile makes to get up to return to her own chair but Mingyu stops her. She shrugs and reaches across the table to grab her own bowl. He smiles to himself as she resumes the rant that she’d been in the middle of before Yeojin’s call. He still has no idea what she’s going on about but he’s content to just listen to her vent.

Day 7

Anxiety twisting her gut into knots is what eventually pulls Kamile from the bliss of sleep. Mingyu’s side of the bed is empty and she’s thankful for that to a certain extent. She heads for the shower, taking extra care with everything she does until she realizes how cowardly it is to stall like this. Deciding against putting on actual clothes, Kamile opts to just pull on one of oversized hoodies.

“Good morning!” Mingyu leans over to kiss her sweetly before turning back to the pan he’s tending to on the stove. He’s been doing that a lot since yesterday. Just randomly stealing kisses like he’s making up for lost time.

“Just so you don’t get freaked out when they show up, I’ve got a private chef coming to cook us dinner tonight.” Mingyu mentions as they sit down to eat breakfast. She’s pleasantly surprised that he’s put in so much thought into their anniversary even though he’s yet to directly mention the fact that today is their anniversary.

Today is their last day in their little safe haven away from the world and the status of their marriage is still technically up in the air. They both know that a decision needs to be made before they leave in the morning, but neither of them has brought it up. It’s like they’ve been tip toeing around the giant elephant in the room and expecting for it to just disappear on its own.

Other than Mingyu making tteokbeokki, extra spicy and extra cheesy just the way Kamile likes it, they don’t really do much throughout the day. A majority of their time is spent tangled in each other on the couch just talking. They reminisce on the days when they’d first started dating. Kamile nearly falls off of the couch in a fit of laughter at Mingyu’s spot on impression of Vernon’s face when he’d caught them sneaking a few kisses in the dorm kitchen one day. Each memory is sweeter than the last and Kamile is overcome with the urge to make more of those memories. Now that she’s been able to let go of the anger and misplaced resentment that had made her bitter, she actually has hope in that possibility.

The heels of the platform pumps she’d decided on for the night click with every step as Kamile slowly descends the staircase. She’s determined not to let her natural clumsiness send her to the hospital on such an important day. Mingyu holds his hand out to her when she reaches the last few steps. He looks every bit the international superstar that he’s known to be.

“You look absolutely stunning.” Warmth spreads across her face at the whispered compliment. She barely manages to return the favor. Kamile’s nerves are starting to get the better of her and she hopes and prays that there’s wine on the table so that she can drink them away.

Thankfully, Kamile notices a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket next to the table when Mingyu leads her into the dim dining room. The dinner prepared by the chef looks delicious and she’s can’t wait to taste it but wine is her first priority if she expects to make it through dinner without bolting. Her first glass is tipped down her throat in record time much to Mingyu’s amusement. He refills without hesitation though she chooses to actually sip that one as intended.

Conversation flows easily between them as they eat. However, the topic that deserves their attention the most continues to stew on the back burner as they talk about literally anything else. As nervous as Kamile was when she first came downstairs, Mingyu is doubly so. He’s done his almighty best to convince Kamile that their marriage is worth saving without outright begging her. Based on the past few days, he’s incredibly hopeful that she’ll come back home with him tomorrow and stay there but she’s always been a wildcard. You never truly knew what move she was going to make until she made it. The small velvet box in his pocket feels like a stone. During a lull in the conversation, Mingyu makes his move.

“Kamile,” He reaches across the table to grab both of her hands, “Four years ago you agreed to be my girlfriend and I thought that surely that was the happiest day of my life but then you said yes to being my wife and I knew then that I was wrong. You’re the most precious part of my life and I was a fool for not making sure that you knew that every day for the last year.”

Mingyu pauses to get down on one knee next to Kamile, pulling the ring box from his pocket. Her ring is nestled in the tiny velvet box. It sparkles brilliantly even in the dim lighting. “Kamile Kim, will you do me the honor of staying my wife?”

Tears well up in Kamile’s eyes as she nods her head yes. She’d made countless lists and weighed her options, but in that moment she throws all of that logic to the wind. At the end of the day, Mingyu is the one. He always has been and he always will be. She can’t believe that she almost threw everything away over her own assumptions and insecurities. Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to slide the piece of jewelry onto her trembling hand when she holds it out to him. He stands, pulling her with him so that he can kiss her senseless.

“I’ve been waiting to say this until I knew where we stood but….happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary, Gyu.” She whispers against his lips before kissing him deeply once more. “Now take me upstairs.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”

#the intimacy anthology #kim mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu idol au #mingyu au #mingyu established relationship #mingyu x oc #mingyu x reader #mingyu x black oc #mingyu x poc oc #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #vernon

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wonnoy · 3 years ago

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life long besties (?)

the last part for haters to lovers with kageyama ! you can read part 1 and 2 for it to make better sense.

but, part 3 is going to be more spicy so if this is what you're here for lol

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warnings: very light spice. like a bb sprinkle.

1 | 2 | 3

You were fighting again, what a big surprise. Hinata had long since stopped trying to get you guys to like each other, making the ridiculous claim every time you guys fight 'just admit you love each other'.

As if.

Your feelings for him, obviously hatred, had only been growing for these past years.

"You're clearly going senile," he said in a snide voice reeling you back into reality with a glare, "zoning out of the blue."

You pushed back away from him, moving further away from on the sidewalk. You two started fighting again, but this time outside and the both of you alone in the middle of the night. Hinata had long since jogged ahead, no wanting to hear you two bicker with him being the middle. You understood, it had to have been tiring when it's all you ever hear.

"Sorry," you looked at him from the corner of your eye, "I don't associate myself with anyone who has virgin lips," you finished. You smiled widely seeing the nickname take its desired effect on him. His shoulder bunching up and his death eyes staring right back at you.

He snuffed at you, "how do you know if I have virgin lips,"

"Because you have too big of an ego to kiss anyone on your own unless they begged to be kissed first," you answered immediately. You could see him huff next to you, crossing his arms roughly, "and you're ugly."

"I know I'm not ugly," he responded.

You scoffed at him, "your mom tell you that?"

Kageyama, though flustered, managed to call you a dumbass under his breath. You looked in front of you again, the sidewalk looked to be infinite with the way the darkness hugged everything. You slid your face deeper into the scarf around your neck, it was colder out tonight.

"Are you cold?" you looked over at him, his hands were stuffed into his pockets and he wasn't looking at you.

"Yea," you nodded and look forward again. Your jacket was not doing much against the cold.

"Should've worn thicker clothing then dumbass," he snickered next to you.

You turned your face up at him, "you act like such a child, you're 27. You don't look like you're much better off," you could hear him curse you under his breath again.

"I'm a volleyball player, I've been conditioned for temperature like this, you're the dumbass here," he replied. You looked down at the ground.

"Whatever you say virgin lips," you muttered. He still believed that you kissed someone before him and you were not going to tell him otherwise. This is best leverage you've had on him ever since you met him. Kageyama had thin lips, but they never seemed to be chapped.

You could feel your heartbeat speed up a little, just looking at him peeved you apparently. You continued to stare at him, the distant thought you pushed away nearly 6 years coming back up. Kageyama being an attractive guy.

"Why are you staring at me like a dumbass," Kageyama was looking at you now, but your eyes weren't on his. They were still on his lips.

"I'm not a dumbass you asshole," you looked away in a huff.

"You were staring at my lips weren't you," he said cockily and you quickened your pace, "oi, slow down dumbass," and he started walking fast too.

God, you started to jog away from him.

"You can't run from me, I'm a professional player," he said from behind but you didn't care and started to sprint away.

You were just caught staring at his lips. You hated him so much, yet why did you continue to hang out with him if you really disliked him as much as you did. You were running out of breath and looked behind you. Kageyama was only lightly jogging after you instead of full on sprinting like you were.

Hinata should have still been around here, you were bound to run into him at one point because he jogged up ahead not too long ago. You all three were heading home together, he wouldn't just leave you two.

As soon as you thought that, Hinata's orange head came into view.

"Hinata!" you cried out and he turned around to see you sprinting down the sidewalk directly into him.

"What is it, did you two stop love-fighting each other yet?" Hinata asked. You were on your knees, struggling to get some air into your system when you gave him an incredulous look.

"I'm running from Kageyama," you tried to say but it came out more like a wheeze. Your lungs burned while you stood up straight again, being wary for whenever Kageyama would come into view again.

Hinata sighed, "you both are childish. Just hash it out like you always do-" he was cut off when a male voice called out your name. You both turned in the direction from where it came from and it was Kageyama now sprinting in your direction.

"y/n!" he yelled out again and you turned, booking it in the other direction. You were already tired and running away from Kageyama was useless, so why were you doing it?

It wasn't long before Kageyama caught up to you, barely out of breath when he finally reached you. You however had to bend over again with your hands on your knees heaving again.

"Why are you such a dumbass, you kept running. Now look at you, bent over and breathless," if your ears weren't already red, they sure were now.

"Shutup, I don't want to hear you," you got off your knees and stood up straight against him again. He took this as a challenge and got up in your face too.

"Too bad then,"

You glared at him, puffs of air visible as you still struggled to get your bearings together, "I don't want to see you either,"

"Then look away," he responded and stepped closer to you. He was right, you could just look away and if you hated him so much you could have always just avoided him for years. But you didn't. You kept seeking out his company to bother him and say that you hated him.

Shit, maybe you didn't hate him. Your stomached clenched along with your heart when you thought of that. Had you been lying to yourself for the past decade just because he called you a dumbass? Hinata had long since cleared that incident up, but that didn't stop you from 'hating' him.

It felt weird but eerily calming to be glaring at the man who you believed you hated for the past decade. Him glowering right back at you as well.

"Listen, virgin lips-" he interrupted you with a snort, "- you don't stop talking and I'll shut you up,"

"That's not how-"

"Virgin lips," you took a step closer.

"No-"

"Virgin Lips," crossed your arms, cutting him off again. He was more than visibly irritated. His fingers were clenching by his side as he kept getting more pissed at you. You could care less.

"Dumba-"

"Virgin lips," you cut him off once more. By now he was in your face, grumbling all to heaven and back.

"-ass-"

"Virg-" you were cut off this time by Kageyama roughly grabbing you by the shoulders and slamming his lips into yours.

He was warm. Maybe he wasn't lying when he said he was conditioned. His lips were thin, but at least they weren't chapped like you speculated for them to be. He was firm against you, barely even moving his lips against yours.

You really were lying to yourself when you said you hated him. You weren't feeling hatred right now, but content. It felt weird to have your heart swell around in your chest, you used to associate it with hatred.

When he pulled away, there was a daze in his eye and a blush on his face that you knew didn't come from the cold.

"I no longer have virgin lips," he said, licking them as if for good measure.

"Me too," you said. When you did, whatever daze he was in was gone for good when he eyed you down. They were wide before they narrowed down into impossible slits.

"So you were lying huh? You damn dumbass," you stuck your tongue at him and he licked his lips again.

"You're the dumbass here for believing it dumbass," you turned away from him and started to walk again, "this doesn't change the fact that I still hate you,"

"You have a funny way of showing hate dumbass and I like it," he snickered behind you. Then came the infamous bickering you two shared constantly, but now you two knew neither of you actually ever meant it.

(in the distance hinata is standing with a shit eating grin on his face. he just won the betting pool between yamaguchi and tsukishima. he totally called it and everything)

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i think i might have to edit this later but it was sitting in my drafts

#haikyuu kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyamaxreader #kageyama tobio #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #fluff

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omni-scient-pan-da · 4 years ago

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And They Were Oar-Mates

The Second Part of My Fic About The Oars by omni-scient-pan-da

For @burntuakrisp @wh33z @reaping-mae @jo-the-nerd @emo-bi-mess @taurianskies7 @the-dumbass-multishipper @pictures-that-are-kinda-cool and that one anon that left an ask that made me actually finish writing this thing (Edit: Find All Parts HERE)

It wasn’t often that Rowan got upset. For the most part, he was an angel, everyone he met loved him. Even when dealing with the nastiest of people, he met them with a smile and a bounce of his step, never letting anyone or anything get to him.

But of course, most people he interacted with had never hurt Killian.

After a raid on their villiage, Killian had made a deal with an evil warlock in order to save both his and Rowan’s life. The warlock helped the two of them escape and live to see another day, and in return, one day the warlock would call on Killian to be his faithful servant for the rest of time.

Over a decade passsed, and the two all but forgot about the deal Killian had made with the warlock. Until one day, the warlock came calling, and Killian disappeared. And now, Rowan was out to find the warlock and get his beloved husband back.

Rowan knew the task wouldn't be easy. First of all, he had no clue where Killian had gone, or where to find him, or how he was going to get him back from the warlock, or even if Killian wanted to be found in the first place.

Rowan shook his head. No, that was just the spell that made him want to leave... Killian would never just abandon me like that, not if he could help it... I just have to find a way to break the spell and then everything can go back to normal Rowan thought to himself.

He'd packed up as much supplies as he could carry, ready to journey for however long it took in order to find his husband.

Sorcery or not, nothing was going to stand in his way. Either he'd return home with Killian or he wouldn't come back home at all.

Rowan teared up as he looked around their home. It didn't really even feel like a home without Killian there with him. After all they'd been through together, Rowan refused to let some evil warlock stand in the way of his marriage.

With a shaky breath in, and one last look around the quiet empty house that had fallen silent since Killian's sudden disappearance, Rowan stepped out of the house, shutting the door behind him as he set out to find his lost husband.

First things first, he had to figure out where the warlock was hiding.

This shouldn't be too hard Rowan thought to himself. How many green flamed evil warlocks could there possibly be?

Apparently the answer was a lot.

Rowan started off by asking around town, trying to figure out if people had heard of the warlock that had taken his husband before. He couldn't remember much about the man, other than the fact that he had given his younger self a case of the heebie jeebies and had green fire-like magic.

One would've thought that with witches and wizards and warlocks having the ability to do literal magic, they would've picked a wider range of colors for their magic to appear in. But not only was green the most popular color, it also was the only lead Rowan had in regards to finding his husband. The warlock hadn’t exactly left a name after saving them from the raid on their village and leaving putting a curse on his husband.

A pang of remorse shot through Rowan’s heart. He should’ve done something more to save him. He should’ve worked harder, done something to get Ian to stay, held onto him and never let go, found some way to undo the curse, something. Anything would’ve been better than letting him disappear.

But Rowan couldn’t focus on that now. Right now all he could do was focus on moving forward. The past was in the past and no matter how much it hurt, there was nothing he could do to undo it. The most important thing was that he tried to fix his mistakes from the past and pray that Killian would forgive him when he finally found him again.

After spending nearly an entire day walking around asking about warlocks with green magic, Rowan set out to the next town to try and find out if anyone there knew the answer. It was longer than he thought it would’ve been, he hadn’t realized how little he and Killian had actually travelled after getting married. They had liked the idea of settling down, maybe adopting a little girl in a year or so if they could...

Rowan sighed softly to himself. “I’ll get you back Ian... I don’t care how long it takes me, I’ll find you again.”

As the sun began to set, Rowan walked to the nearest inn to find a place to stay for the night. No matter how much he wanted to keep searching, he would be no good to Killian if he froze to death setting out on the cold roads at night. And he’d be even less help if he tried to push forward sleep deprived and hungry.

After booking a room and setting down his belongings he headed down to the tavern at the base floor of the inn. He didn’t want anything to drink, neither him or Killian cared for it, but right now, Rowan just needed to be around people. The thought of being alone with his thoughts at the moment... It was just too much for him to handle.

He sat in one of the booths in the back, just watching the people go by and twisting the wedding ring on his finger. Somehow he had to find someone that knew the warlock. And then he’d be able to get his husband back.

Meanwhile, across the land, the matching ring was being twisted around another’s finger.

“It can’t stay on forever boy,” The warlock scowled as he glared at his mortal bodyguard. “The metal will interfere with the magic.”

“I still don’t see why it’s necessary for me to learn magic in the first place,” Killian shot back, continuing to twist the ring around his finger. “Wouldn’t that just make it easier for me to escape from here?”

The warlock laughed. “Like I would teach you anything useful enough to help you escape.”

Killian glared at the ground, twisting the ring around his finger a little faster, as if to remind himself that it was still actually there.

“Besides, you entered a magical contract when you shook my hand all those years ago child. And no matter how powerful you may get, there’s no way to break a magical contract. You swore to be my faithful bodyguard for the rest of your mortal life in exchange for helping you and your little boyfriend-”

“Husband,” Killian intergected, though the warlock just continued on like he hadn’t said anything at all.

“-out of that burning village.”

“That you were attacking.”

“I never said magical contracts were always fair, or that the circumstances under which they were formed was always perfect, just that there’s no way to break them,” The warlock smirked, and it took nearly all of Killian’s willpower not to step forward and punch him square across the jaw.

Not that it would actually do any damage to the warlock himself of course. There were safe guards against that. Any physical harm Killian tried to enact on the warlock would end up rebounding back on him, whether he tried to physically attack him or poison his food. Killian had had to learn that one the hard way.

“What does any of this have to do with me needing to learn magic?” Killian asked.

“You can’t be my bodyguard and not know how to protect me against magical attacks as well as physical ones. Otherwise you’d just be a little human flesh shield and you’d be dead after a few hits, and that’s really not fun for anyone involved.”

Killian glanced down at the ring on his finger once again. He had no idea where he was, or where Rowan was, if there was any hope of seeing him again, or even if Rowan would want to see him after all this. It was possible that Rowan would want nothing to do with him after all was said and done. After all, he was the one that had left him. Killian couldn’t blame him if Rowan had wanted to move on. To find a less cursed husband. He had said from the beginning that accepting the warlock’s deal was a bad idea and yet he had taken him up on it anyways.

The warlock scowled, impatient. “Look boy, either you can take the ring off now, or I can take it off for you, and since you can still learn counterspells with nine fingers, I’d suggest you take it off of your own violition that way you can keep all your fingers and that stupid metal band.”

Killian hesitated for a moment before slipping the ring off his finger and slipping it into his pocket. He felt as if he was betraying Rowan somehow, dishonoring his husband by taking off his wedding ring, especially under the circumstances. But he didn’t have much of a choice. It was either take the ring off or let the warlock take it from him forever, and at least this way he’d still be able to hang onto it.

“Alright fine then, teach me your countercurses or whatever, I’ll bite,” Killian said, his voice unwavering despite the way he felt inside.

The warlock smiled. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?” his hands lit up, green glowing orbs floating in each one. “Now it’s time for the real work to begin.”

Author's Note: Haha, okay, so funny story, I was writing this because of this one anon and as I got to this point I realized it was a pretty good stopping point and since people are actually still interested in this I figured I'd finish the story and then lo and behold I realized that I should probably break the story up a little more, so there WILL BE a part three which I will link HERE when I find it and potentially a part four depending on how part three goes. I promise it will eventually have a happy ending and I'll tag the same people I did for this part in part 3 as well as anyone that reblogs or comments on either part one or part 2 (unless you don't want me to, then I totally get it, just lmk I won't be offended) Anyways, thanks for reading this far and hopefully part 3 will come out soon!

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Chapter 17 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

~|Emily Fox|~

Charlie has not left my side since Friday and it is now Thursday. Besides splitting up for school, he’s been stuck to my side like superglue. And even during school, he didn’t leave me alone one second by constantly texting me cute messages or hilarious memes to make me smile because according to him, knowing I’m smiling makes him smile. I don’t know how I deserved to meet a guy like Charlie. “Romeo sending you cute texts again?” Madison’s voice makes me jump. “No, he’s sending me hilarious memes,” I show her my phone screen as she sits down at our lunch table, and she cracks up after a few seconds. “He’s been sending me at least one every hour.” “Aah, love language of the modern day,” she sighs dreamily with an amused smile on her face. She then fishes something out of her backpack and hands it to me. A piece of paper with Emily and The Foxes written at the top in cursive. Live at Open Mic Night, and then the address of the Music Store. “I took the liberty to create a flyer for your gig on Saturday. So many people have reacted to your post on Facebook and Instagram.” Madi is way too excited about this. “How many people?” I cringe, not really wanting to know, but I want to be prepared anyway. “A few five hundred.” I gulp loudly. “That’s a lot of people.” Madison gives me a sympathetic look, knowing that would stress me out. “I don’t know if I can perform in front of that many people.” “Emsie, you have a great band that’ll back you up no matter what. You saw what they did last Friday with your song for your uncle Bobby! They were there for you even though you never rehearsed the song. They got you.” Her words do sound reassuring, but it doesn’t calm my heart down enough. “It still makes me want to puke,” I reply with a giggle, and Madison laughs too, if not out of pity. “I did start writing a new song last night with Charlie.” I grab my songbook, open it to the page and hand it over. Madi looks at it for a second. “It’s for Uncle Mitch,” I inform her, but I think she already knows. “This sounds beautiful, I bet you and Charlie have come up with a great melody for it.” “Not yet! We’re going to work on that tonight. Sometimes he comes up with the melody first, but for this one, we wanted the lyrics right before we added the melody or the beat.” “I don’t understand anything about songwriting. But you’re the expert, so,” Madison raises her hands, making me laugh. After lunch, Madi and I head to our lockers where I find Jake leaning against mine. My heart beats faster, but not in a good way, and my hands become clammy, my body freezing entirely. Madison even bumps into me because I’d stopped so abruptly. “Oof, Emily, warn a girl before—” she stops herself when her eyes land on what I’m looking at. I’d told her about what happened at the party last week. “I swear to God…” she grumbles while rolling up the sleeves of her jumper, ready to charge forward. “What are you going to do, Mads? Punch him? Not a great idea,” I tell her in a hushed voice. “We got to do something for what he did to you, Ems! He harassed you!” I glance around to make sure no one heard her angry whispers. “Charlie already punished him enough by nearly punching him. I think he learned his lesson.” A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of Charlie’s dark, angry eyes. “If he learned his lesson, what’s he doing at your locker?!” I shrug, turning back to Jake. “I don’t know, let’s find out.” Madison wants to start arguing, but I’m already charging forward towards Jake. “Can you move, please?” I raise my voice, hoping it’ll give me some power. “Emily, hi,” Jake breathes out in a blind panic. “What do you need?” I ask as he moves out of the way, so I can get into my locker. “I just wanted to check up on you. I know your uncle’s passing was a year ago.” “It was a year ago last week, dumbass,” Madison chimes in angrily. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know,” he stutters, glancing from Madison to me. “Yes, you did, Jake,” I tell him, “You broke up with me exactly a year ago on this day after a week of me not being able to function because of my uncle’s death. You know all-too well.” “Yeah, dumbass!” Madison hypes me up with her interjections. “So, stop bothering me and get back to your girlfriend.” I grab the book I need from my locker, slam it shut and then walk away from Jake with Madison in tow. “I am shaking,” I whisper to Madison and she wraps an arm around me. “That was so good!” she whispers back, and we both head to our next class together. I can’t believe I just stood up to Jake like that. Something in me definitely wanted to punch him, but I kept my cool. I wish I punched him though.

“I nearly punched Jake in the face today,” I tell Charlie when we’re in my bedroom after school. I don’t have a shift today, so Charlie and I decided to chill in my room instead to work on our music. Mitch did have one rule though; leave the door open. “What?!” he asks in a surprised squeak. “Yeah, he was waiting at my locker after lunch, saying he wanted to check up on me because,” I lower my voice for the next part, imitating Jake, “He wanted to check up on me because he knows my uncle’s passing was a year ago today.” Charlie furrows his eyebrows. “Jake sounds more like,” he squeaks out the next words as if his voice hadn’t dropped yet, “I’m checking up on you, Emily, because I am a jerk,” he goes back to his normal voice, “You know, because his balls haven’t dropped yet.” His comment makes me laugh. “Anyway, Madi was there too and she was like ‘It was a year ago last week, dumbass’ and then he stuttered a stupid apology, being like,” I cough and higher my tone, “I didn’t know.” “That’s better,” Charlie comments, plopping down onto his stomach on the bed, propping his head up with his hand, looking up at me. “Thanks,” I say proudly, “And then I was like ‘You did know, Jake. You broke up with me a year ago’, and Madi was like ‘yeah, dumbass!’ and then I went ‘So, stop bothering me and go back to your girlfriend’ and walked away but I so nearly punched him!” “You should’ve punched him,” Charlie agrees with me, and I halt in the middle of my room, right in front of him. He gives me this amused, smug grin, which just makes me proud of myself. His smile then turns to a scowl. “I wish Jeremy would’ve let me punch him.” “What would that solve, big guy?” I squat down to his height, placing my elbows on the bed. “Nothing, I’d just like to punch him.” I smile and plant a kiss to his nose. When I get up again, he captures me by my wrist, stopping me from walking away. “Are you okay? I can imagine seeing him wasn’t amazing after what he did to you.” “I’m fine, I had a minor panic when I saw him at my locker, but I’m fine.” “Come here, let’s cuddle!” He rolls onto his side and pulls me down. “No, Charlie, we have to finish this song!” I object but let him pull me next to him anyways. “Cuddle first, then we’ll work on the song.” We’re facing each other, our foreheads pressed together. His fingers reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear; a habit of his I’ve come to adore. “You’re beautiful, do you know that?” I roll my eyes at his compliment but can’t help the blush appearing on my cheeks. “You’re pretty too,” I reply instead, which makes him frown. “I am not!” He now just looks like an angry puppy. “Yeah, you are,” I tease. Charlie’s mouth drops open, eyes widening, and before I know it, his fingers attack my stomach with tickles, sending me into a laughing frenzy. “No, stop! Stop!” I wheeze out, trying to tear his hands of me. “Char, stop!” He obeys, and as my laughter dies down, I can’t help but notice the way he’s looking at me. A feeling of love and adoration fleets throughout my body, but my brain doesn’t dare to give my lips permission to say those three words at the tip of my tongue. It does, however, give them permission to take away the space between mine and his. “I’m so happy I met you, Em—” I know he nearly calls me ‘Emmy’, but stopped himself before he could. “Like, so happy,” he adds instead and kisses me again. Now I pull away after a few seconds, like I needed his lips to mull this over. “Charlie…” I whisper, combing away strands of hair from his forehead. “Call me Emmy.” His breath hitches in his throat before his lips curl up into the most beautiful smile I ever did see. “I’m so happy I met you, Emmy,” he repeats and then just kisses me again as I relish in the feeling of being able to hear that nickname again from a person I love.

After a cuddle and make-out session of about an hour, Charlie and I detangle – much to both our dismay – and start working on our song for Saturday. The one for Mitch. We’d come up with pretty much everything, it just misses a bridge. “What if we mix the pre-chorus with that second verse?” Charlie suggests, and starts singing. His voice raspy and low. “The times that I doubted myself I felt like I needed some help Stuck in my head, with nothing left” I join in now, our voices intertwining. “And when I feel lost and alone I know that I can make it home Fight through the dark” He smiles at me, “High note, go for it,” he says quickly, leaving the last line to me. “And find the spark,” I hit the high note effortlessly. “Yes!” Charlie exclaims excitedly, “Yo, I got chills, literal chills.” He shows me his arms, filled with goosebumps. “I can’t get over how talented you are, Ems.” He’s careful with the permission of the new nickname, I see. “Same goes for you, Charlie,” I compliment him and peck his lips as a reward of some kind. “Now with some guidance of the guitar, so we can show it to the boys tomorrow?” Charlie nods and grabs the guitar he brought from home or the garage. I haven’t talked to him about home yet. I’m too scared to. We sing it once with the guitar, and then start thinking about other instruments. “Let’s start with a bit of piano?” Charlie suggests, “And just you singing?” I nod my head in agreement. “Drums, electric guitar and bass join in at the chorus, but we don’t sing yet.” I raise my eyebrows at him, not entirely sure about that idea. “It’s your song for your uncle Mitch, Ems,” he reasons, and I can’t argue with him. Not that I don’t want to, but because he simply continues. “I’ll take the second verse?” “And Jeremy and you duet the pre-chorus, and then second chorus is all of us?” I chime in. “And we’ll alternate on the bridge?” Charlie nods his head. “Jere can guide on piano on the bridge.” “And you can hit them high notes during the last chorus when the boys join in again?” “Uhm, yeah, sure,” I reply, unsure about the high notes. I can hit a few, but I think he might overestimate my abilities a little. “This gig is going to be awesome, Emmy!” he exclaims excitedly and jumps up from the bed. “It’s a nice warm-up for my audition in a week,” I tell him absentmindedly as I write down all our ideas in my notebook. “YOUR AUDITION IS IN A WEEK?!” he yells loudly, making me jump. “Yeah, didn’t I tell you? Not this Saturday because Open Mic Night, you know, but the Saturday after that.” I don’t even look up at him until I feel the bed dip down. My eyes glance up at the boy kneeling on the bed in front of me. “You didn’t tell me that. You want me to be there?” He takes my hand in his and presses kisses to my knuckles. “Of course. I doubt I can do it without you supporting me from the sidelines.” His lips curl up until they very nearly reach his ears. “But first, Open Mic Night.” I turn to my songbook again and feel him kiss the top of my head before he gets off the bed again. His excitement is winding him up again, shooting balls of energy through his body until he becomes one. He even radiates that excitement when we have a band rehearsal on Friday when we show the boys the new song. “That sounds awesome, Emily!” Jeremy compliments giddily when we’re done explaining and showing. “Shall we open with that one?” All three of us agree with that idea. Then Charlie kisses me on the cheek when he walks past to grab his guitar. “Then Perfect Harmony?” he suggests, playing the first chords of the song on his acoustic. “I would end with Now or Never,” I chime in with my idea, which everyone agrees to. “Flying Solo third and Finally free straight after?” Owen goes on while I write them all down. “Are we allowed to play five songs?” Jeremy then asks, “I mean, we only played one the last time.” I feel one corner of my mouth tug upwards into a smirk. “I work here, Jere, of course we can.” A giggle eludes from his mouth. I love the boys’ excitement about everything. They often remind me of a huddle of excited puppies or curious squirrels. “Any other song we want to add?” “Ooh!” Charlie exclaims excitedly, “Do you want to do the song you played to that girl?” “Wake Up?” I ask, and he nods vigorously. “I mean, sure, but it’s been a while since I played that and it’s just piano though?” “It could be the song we play to emphasize the Emily in Emily and The Foxes?” Owen suggests, to which Charlie just nods his head again. “I’m not going to sing a song without you guys,” I tell them and move over to the piano. “Then we’ll add some drums and bass,” Jeremy sums up, and Charlie coughs as to tell his buddy not to forget about him, “And guitar.” “I mean… If you guys really want to do that…” “Yes! Babe, that song is amazing!” I’m a bit taken aback by the pet name Charlie uses. He suddenly goes from excited puppy to solemn, shy Charlie I’d seen appear a couple of times the first few days of meeting him. “That’s the song you played when I first laid eyes on you.” While Owen and Jeremy let out an ‘aw’, mostly to tease Charlie, I think, I smile up at Charlie. “It definitely has potential for a good Emily and The Foxes song, I guess?” I play the first few notes on the piano, being reminded of the song I wrote with Uncle Bobby. “And how about that Sirens song?” Owen asks, which makes me stop playing abruptly. “No, we can play Sirens at rehearsals, but not at gigs. I want to keep that song for us,” I answer determinedly. Owen simply nods, understanding what that song means to me. “So, for Saturday it’s Bright - Perfect Harmony – Flying Solo – Finally Free – Wake Up – Now or Never?” Jeremy asks, just for reassurance. “Yes,” Charlie and I say in unison. I’m still a little nervous about Wake Up, but I’m sure we’ll be fine after a couple of rehearsals. We even nailed Flying Solo after rehearsing for an hour and I know Wake Up by heart. “Are we nervous for our first official gig? Because I am,” Owen laughs nervously, wringing his hands. I pat the spot beside me on the bench in front of the piano, which he then takes, sighing nervously. I play a couple of notes, letting the melody flow out into the room. “I’m nervous too,” I tell him softly, “But I know as long as I have you guys, nothing can go wrong because you guys have my backs. Always,” I look up at him, but don’t stop playing. Owen offers me the sweetest smile ever. “We have each other’s backs, always.” He nods his head agreeingly. His arms snake around my waist as he hugs me sideways, and before I know it, Charlie has his arms around my neck and Jeremy’s hugging Owen. “See, I told you,” I whisper to the boy next to me. “We’ll be fine,” Owen reassures himself more than me, but it does work for me too. No matter what happens. We’ll always have each other. We’ll always be more than a band.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @ashleyleblancx @calamitykaty @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @lolychu @hemmingsness Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

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heyyyharry · 5 years ago

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Harry suggests they watch Fifty Shades of Grey together

(a blurb from the Flatmate Series / pre-relationship)

Word count: 2.6k

Warning: heavy sexual tension and mention of smut, but also a lot of fluff.

Yes, I had to rewatch the film and fast-forward to the sex scenes to write in such details lmao. This is my favourite flatmate blurb at the moment 😂

“Let’s watch Fifty Shades of Grey tonight.”

Y/N widened her eyes at Harry. She thought he was joking, but as he entered the title onto Netflix, she snatched the remote from his hand immediately.

“It’s my turn to pick the movie,” she said, making him scoff.

“No, it’s my turn. You picked the movie for two weeks in a row because last week I couldn’t decide between Coraline and Corpse Bride, remember?”

Y/N huffed as she gave the remote back to him. She wasn’t into the idea at all, but she was curious to know why he insisted on picking this one and not one of those ‘everyone’s favourite’ movies that he would normally pick.

“Harry.”

“What?”

“Isn’t this movie about sex?” Y/N muttered as her cheeks turned pink. Fortunately, her flatmate was looking at the screen.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “It’s not like porn though. Don’t worry.”

“Have you watched it before?”

“No, but everyone says it’s bad.”

“Then why do you wanna watch it? Let’s put on something good! Something with Timothée Chalamet!”

“I’m tired of Timothée Chalamet!”

“No one is tired of Timothée Chalamet! You suck!”

Harry stopped before he was about to press play and turned to her, raising his eyebrows. “Well, you can watch your Timmy when you’re alone. Tonight we’re watching this terrible movie for a change. It’s gonna be fun.”

Y/N tossed her head back as she groaned. “You’re making me watch this because I said no to watching porn with you!”

“Not true! Don’t disrespect porn like that!” He scoffed. “Porn makes you horny, this will be like a nice little comedy. I mean, the books are shit on paper, this should be worse.”

“You’ve read the books?”

“I’ve read one chapter. I was a curious horny teenager, don’t judge me.”

“All right then.” She sighed and let him press play. “If it gets weird, we’re turning it off.”

The movie turned out to be more entertaining than they had expected, especially when they had unintentionally started a competition to see who could point out more mistakes. Harry was definitely winning, but Y/N didn’t mind. She was in hysterics as he kept throwing in random comments about every single scene.

“Why does she keep biting her lip? What’s wrong with her lip?”

“Did he fucking track her phone?! This guy’s a stalker!”

“Never get too drunk when you go out, Y/N. I don’t want you to end up in some creep’s...sex dungeon!”

But when came the first sex scene, Harry was as quiet as a mouse. He had expected it to be ridiculously unrealistic like the whole idea of the story, but this scene was actually kind of...hot?

Y/N didn’t even notice his sudden silence. Her eyes were fixed on the screen and he had to steal a glance at her when Christian laid a naked Ana down on the bed and started eating her out.

Y/N was nibbling on her lip. Even though she didn’t show much from her facial expression, seeing the way she switched to a different sitting position with her legs crossed, Harry assumed the scene was doing something to her too. For some reason, watching two characters fucking turned him on less than watching his flatmate squirming because of it.

He assumed this would have been fun to watch with his friends, but was definitely a terrible choice for a movie night with his crush. Now he couldn’t help but imagine himself making love to her like that. It must have been a long time since she slept with someone. If only he could show her what she’d been missing and made her feel so good she wouldn’t wish to be with anyone else. Even that stupid actor Timothée Chalamet.

“That was...something.” Y/N released a sharp breath once the scene was over and turned to smile at Harry.

He smiled back, wanting to throw in a joke to clear the tension but his mind was completely blank at this point. They were only forty-five minutes in. He wasn’t sure if he could get through two hours without at least an erection. God, he was so fucking screwed.

“She’s got a nice little butt,” Y/N said as the actress stood fully naked with her back to the mirror. He supposed she wanted to make this less awkward for them, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about her butt.

“You’ve got a nice butt too.” He nudged her with his shoulder and she slapped him on the arm.

“You’ve never seen my butt!” Then her mouth fell open. “Have you?!”

“No! It was just a guess!” I wish I had though, he thought as Y/N pushed his face away and looked back at the screen.

The next sex scene came right after. Harry almost cursed out loud when Christian tied Ana’s wrists together with a tie, thank God the mum showed up and interrupted the couple before they fucked again. Y/N burst out laughing, and he did too, but out of relief.

He prayed his dick would just stay calm until the credits started rolling. If only it wasn’t so fucking sensitive! Look what you’ve done to yourself, dumbass. You should’ve gone with Timothée Chalamet.

“Who wrote these dialogues? Oh my god!” Y/N giggled as the characters started talking again.

“If you agree to do this, you’re gonna want your own room.”

“Why? Because I’ll be your sex slave?”

“Take me as your sex slave, Christian. I want a bigger room!” Harry joked, making Y/N guffaw as she put her head on his shoulder.

Harry’s laughter died down as his limbs went stiff. He didn’t want to move, afraid that she might pull away and he might never have another moment like this.

“Which one is yours?” Ana asked as she and Christian walked into his garage.

“All of them,” the guy answered, making Harry cackle.

“That’s gonna be me one day,” he said and nodded his head towards the screen. “I’m gonna be a sexy boss who owns ten expensive cars and a place like that. Minus the sex dungeon, of course.”

“I could see you having a sex dungeon though.”

“I already have one.” He turned around and pointed to his bedroom. “Wanna see it after the movie?”

The joke got him a smack on the leg as Y/N shot him a glare. “Anyway,” she breathed. “If you’re gonna be that rich, at least give me a ride in one of your expensive cars.”

“Would I still be hanging out with you then?” He playfully arched an eyebrow, making her laugh softly.

“Oh, you would beg to hang out with me,” she said with her head still on his shoulder. At this point, neither of them was paying attention to the movie.

“Wanna hear how I imagine our future?”

Harry pursed his lips as he gave a nod. “Sure, tell me.”

“Okay.” She jolted right up and turned to face him, putting her elbow on the backrest and her head against her knuckles. “It’s ten years from now, yeah? Say you’re a CEO living in a big mansion. You’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted, but you are so lonely because you don’t wanna fall in love and settle down.”

Harry rolled his eyes, laughing slightly as she gripped his shoulder to make sure he was still listening.

“One day, while walking around your rose garden, you start thinking about the good old days when you were in college and shared a flat with a lovely girl. Oh, where is she now? you wonder. So you hire a spy to look for me and find out I’m living in the suburbs with a husband, two kids and a puppy...or a cat.”

“Boringggg.”

“Shut up!”

“Do go on though. What happens next?” he asked, putting his hand on her knee.

Smiling, she went on, “you decide to come visit me on a beautiful Sunday. I open the door and I’m so surprised to see you. ‘Hey, do you remember the night we decided to watch that awful sex movie,’ asks lonely thirty-year-old Harry. ‘How could I forget? I’ve been having nightmares since,’ says beautiful married Y/N.”

Harry tossed his head back and laughed as Y/N tried to hold it in so she could finish her story.

“Then you say to me, ‘that night, you told me to give you a ride in one of my expensive cars if I ever got rich. So would you like to go somewhere with me on this fine Sunday morning?’ , ‘Oh, I really want to,’ I say to you, ‘but my husband would be jealous so I have to turn you down.’ Then we say goodbye and I close the door, leaving you standing outside for a long moment. You walk back to your expensive car as it starts raining, and suddenly, you feel sad.”

“Sad?”

“Yeah. Because you have finally realised that, you’ve been in love with me this whole time!” Y/N exclaimed as she grabbed his shoulders. “Unfortunately, it’s already too late because I’m now happy with my husband, two children, and a dog...or a cat. The end!”

When Harry said nothing, she lightly elbowed him. He looked down as she looked up, her cheek pressing against his shoulder as she gave him a pout. “No applause?”

“Your story sucks,” he said, smirking as she puckered up her lips and turned back to the TV.

“Oh no, we forgot to pause!” she said.

“Well, we already know what’s gonna happen so I don’t think we’ve missed much.”

“You’re probably right.”

As she continued watching the movie, he was watching her. Thanks to her stupid story, now he had to worry about his future ten years from now. How could he compete with her husband, two children and a dog, or a cat?! And the nice vision with ten cars and the big mansion didn’t sound so nice anymore since he knew for sure she wouldn’t be in it. His heart already broke for thirty-year-old Harry.

Maybe he would stay up all night to blame himself for what was yet to happen. But now he had a bigger problem to deal with.

As they reached the final sex scene, Harry was embarrassingly and painfully hard. Thank God for the pillow that sat conveniently right beside him. He put it on his lap to hide his hardon while already thinking about jerking off in the shower once this movie had ended.

He reluctantly checked on Y/N. She was sitting so still, but he could see right through her neutral expression that she desperately wanted to touch herself. After a moment, she started rubbing her thighs together, and Harry’s jaw went slack as he suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Fuck, this is better than porn. I’m going to hell, he thought while stroking his thigh with one hand, the other still resting on her leg.

He wasn’t sure if he was so horny his mind was playing tricks on him or her skin was really burning under her pyjamas. He could feel it, and now he was too awkward to remove his hand from her leg. He kept watching her face as the moaning and the music from the movie turned his face scarlet. When she pressed her lips together, he couldn’t help it anymore.

“To be honest,” he spoke with a voice full of breath, “I’ve always wondered if this was the kind of content you’d masturbate to, since...since you don’t watch porn.”

Y/N swallowed hard but she didn’t seem offended at all. Her eyelids fluttered as she gave him a bashful smile. “I...do watch porn.”

“Oh?” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yeah, I’ve just...never had an orgasm by myself…”

Holy shit. Harry’s mouth fell open as he gripped his knee. He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious? Shit, was he being too obvious?

He swallowed hard, fixing the pillow on his lap and slightly grinding his hips against it to get some friction on his crotch area. His head fell back to the backrest of the couch as Y/N pulled away and did the same. They were looking at each other, their faces so close Harry couldn’t focus on anything else.

Half of him wanted to excuse himself and went to the bathroom to jerk off, the other half wanted to stay and finish the movie with her. This was the most intimate moment they had ever shared and he certainly couldn’t let it go to waste.

“You okay?” she asked and he gave a nod, licking his lip.

“Not gonna lie, these sex scenes got me quite worked up.”

“Oh…” Y/N chewed on the corner of her mouth as she shifted around a bit. “Um...are you…you know...”

“No, am I what?” He smirked. Of course he knew what her question would be. He was a bit embarrassed that she could already tell from looking at his face, still he had to hear her say it.

“Y-You…” she stuttered, “you know what.”

“No, Y/N, I’m afraid I don’t.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, and with a bit of hesitation, pointed to his lap. “That.”

“That? What’s that?” He sounded amused. “I don’t get it. Care to elaborate?”

“Forget it.” She waved him off. But did she really think he would let her get away with this?

“You want to know if I’m hard?”

The question made Y/N groan as she buried her face into her palms. She didn’t deny or confirm it, but he already knew he was right.

“You’re wet, aren’t you?”

“Stop!”

“Y/N.”

“What?” She huffed as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hands away from her face. She gave him only one quick glance before looking back at the screen, but he knew she was too flustered to continue watching.

“Promise me you’ll try tonight,” he blurted, unsure why he’d said it, but he didn’t regret it for the look on her face was priceless.

“Try what?”

“Make yourself come.”

Y/N gripped the hem of her shirt, her eyes went round. “Stop messing with me. It’s not funny anymore!”

“I’m serious. Promise me you’ll try,” his voice was low and heavy as if he was out of breath. “Don’t think too much. Just...get yourself wet and feel it out, love. You should know your body better than anyone, right?”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, which made Harry think he might have crossed the line and she would definitely get mad at him. But then she shifted her eyes to her lap and finally gave a nod.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she softly confirmed. That one word alone could make him bust his nuts right on that couch. He was glad it didn’t happen, still, he wished he could tell her what she was doing to him.

As soon as the credits started to scroll, Y/N turned off the TV, wished him goodnight and fled straight to her room like a scared little deer.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief. He got up, turned the lights off and hurried to the shower to take care of his big problem. He didn’t know if she kept her promise and touched herself before going to bed, but he assumed that she did, and came so hard to those filthy thoughts that his legs felt like jelly once it was over.

As he rested his forehead against the shower wall and let the warm water run down his back, he shut his eyes and told himself to stick to PG movies from now on.

#flatmate!harry #flatmate blurbs #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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mistletouchunderthetree · 4 years ago

Text

in honor of eddie month, i’m releasing a collection of WIPs that will never be completed (usually because i just ran out of momentum writing them). they’re all eddie centric and canon divergent. here’s the third!

this is about 3600 words! featuring a lot of internalized homophobia, a gay crisis, and eddie’s issues from the book with religion and worrying about going to hell and how that ties into his sexuality

“Meet back in half an hour?” Mike’s voice was cheery as he looked around at the six other Losers that stood in the hotel lobby.

Beverly and Eddie spoke at the same time – Beverly suggesting they do breakfast instead so everyone could get some rest, and Eddie loudly saying: “You expect me to get this nasty shit off of my body in less than thirty minutes?” He noticed Richie wince next to him. “What?”

“Dude, you’re screaming,” Richie told him, just as Mike agreed with Beverly.

“No I’m fucking not,” Eddie countered, frowning.

“As much as I hate to agree with Richie,” Stan said, “you are. Clean out your ears while you’re in the shower.”

Eddie gaped at his friend. “My… my ears?”

“Bet you got leper puke in there,” Richie added, grinning. Eddie was horrified. He hadn’t realized everyone else had already headed upstairs to their respective rooms to shower – except Beverly and Ben, who seemed to have entered the same room. He wasn’t even sure where Mike had gone.

“While you guys argue, I’m going to take a shower and call my wife,” Stan said, an embarrassed expression crossing his face. Eddie wasn’t sure what to say; they all knew the story: Patty had caught Stan in the midst of writing seven letters, stopping him from making any permanent decisions and calling Mike to find out what had been so awful that her happy husband had decided to calmly sit down and write suicide notes for the people he loved. Mike and Stan had explained the situation to her as well as they could; in the end, it had been his own wife who convinced Stan that he couldn’t turn his back on a promise.

“Well, I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Eds,” Richie said, when the door closed behind Stan. He started up the stairs when Eddie’s voice stopped him.

“There’s… I don’t have a shower curtain anymore,” Eddie told him, voice still too loud. “Or, it has a knife hole and blood on it…”

“Eddie Spaghetti, are you trying to get naked with me?”

Eddie floundered, face turning red. “Wh – I – No! I just. Shut the fuck up, Richie!”

Richie laughed, gesturing at Eddie to follow him. “C’mon, dumbass, you can use my shower. I’ll even let you go first.”

“Wow, my knight in shining armor,” Eddie muttered, following Richie up the stairs. He’d already brought his luggage back up and left it outside his own room, so he grabbed it and entered Richie’s room. Richie was already digging through the one small suitcase he’d brought.

“You know…” Richie started, then paused. Eddie looked at him, dropping his toiletry bag on the bed next to Richie’s luggage. Richie looked back, biting his lip. He finally shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Just take your shower, Eds,” Richie sighed. Eddie felt his stomach drop and knew there was disappointment on his face. Richie was looking down at his bag, still moving clothes around like he was looking for something, but Eddie was sure it was just a way to avoid eye contact. He waited for Richie to say something for a few moments, and when he didn’t, he rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom.

It was disgusting work, peeling off the clothes he’d been wearing for over 24 hours. He realized this outfit had been on an airplane, in a rental car, at a restaurant, in the basement of the pharmacy, covered in Leper puke, bled on from his own stab wound, through the Derry sewer system, into It’s lair and finally into the Quarry.

He already began making plans to burn all of it.

The shower in Richie’s bathroom was exactly the same as the one in his own, down to the ugly green color of the curtain, and the sight of it made him shiver. He stood under the water unable to close his eyes, constantly checking to make sure a crazy escaped inmate wasn’t waiting on the other side of the curtain with a knife. He’d seen Bowers’ dead body, but he couldn’t help but think the sharp end of a knife was going to tear through the curtain at any moment.

He started by cleaning out his ears, steadfastly avoiding looking at the gunk that he removed, then moved onto his hair, because he knew he’d have to keep his eyes closed the longest to rinse out shampoo and he wanted to get it over with. It took three washes before his hair felt sufficiently clean, and he’d only peeked around the shower curtain four times. After that, he used a washcloth from the hotel, lathered in his own antibacterial body wash, to scrub every inch of his skin until he was bright red but clean. He checked for an intruder only twice as he did so. He washed only the bottom half of his face with his face wash, choosing to scrub his forehead with the washcloth so as not to risk soap in the eyes. It wasn’t until he had opened the curtain and begun to dry off that he realized how hard his heart had pounded the entire time he’d been showering.

He was going to have to find a place with a walk-in shower, the kind with a glass door and glass walls, once he decided where he was going to live after he left Derry. Not only did his house in New York have tubs with shower curtains, but it had Myra and years of unhappiness, and he had already decided he was not going back.

Once he was dry, he stepped out of the shower and frowned, wincing when it pulled at his cheek. He wrapped the towel around himself tightly and exited the bathroom, already planning to avoid Richie’s gaze and letting his eyes go directly toward his suitcase on the bed.

However, they landed on Richie in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxers on the bed, instead. He was clean, hair wet against the pillow, and he grinned wolfishly at Eddie.

“Oh,” Richie said. “Do you have something you need to tell me, Eds? You sleep in the nude? I’m sorry, but I’m not your wife, so – “

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. How did you shower?”

“I used Ben’s, since he’s busy fucking Beverly in hers,” Richie answered casually.

“Christ, Rich,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head. “Don’t… You can’t say shit like that, they’re our friends.”

“Just because they’re our friends doesn’t mean we have to pretend like they’re not absolutely having sex right now.”

“I’d prefer not to think about it, actually,” Eddie said, kneeling down to the floor where Richie had placed his luggage and looking for something to use as pajamas.

“I’d prefer to think about it,” Richie grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Eddie, who had glanced up to give him a disgusted look.

“Stop thinking about Beverly naked, Richie.”

“Oh, it’s not Beverly I’m thinking about,” he said.

Eddie whipped his head around, clutching a t-shirt in his hand.

“Oh, come on,” Richie said, looking in the opposite direction. His fingers fidgeted where they rested on his chest. “Ben’s super hot now, and Beverly’s like… my sister.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what to say. Was this a joke?

“Um,” he cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “What?”

“Don’t act all oblivious now, Eds,” Richie continued, though Eddie could hear the discomfort in his voice. He always resorted to that fake laughter, to jokes that didn’t quite land, when he was nervous.

“Uh – Is this…” Eddie trailed off, staring at Richie’s poker face. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious about Ben. Like, are you actually attracted to him?”

Richie glanced to the side. “Attracted to him how?”

Eddie felt the urge to stomp his foot. Richie was being difficult on purpose and he wasn’t sure how, but somehow this was a ruse to make fun of him. “Attracted to him the normal way, Richie. Like, physically. Sexually. Whatever.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t say no if he offered,” Richie shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, “but is this you coming out to me right now?”

“I thought I did that at dinner when I talked about how hot Ben was.”

“Can you be serious for like, five seconds?”

“I am being serious!” Richie insisted, sitting up. Eddie pulled his t-shirt over his head without removing the towel from his waist. “I mean… if you’re okay with that?”

“If I’m okay… With you being attracted to Ben.”

“No, you fucking dumbass!” Richie rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about Ben!” He paused and shook his head. “Okay, no, I give a shit about Ben, just not like that. I just meant… if you’re okay with me being… not straight.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed. He was clutching his towel.

“I uh, probably should’ve done this at a better time, huh?” Richie said, cheeks red. He laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. “Like, when you’re not naked.”

“I’m not naked,” Eddie argued weakly.

“You’re naked enough,” Richie muttered.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“God, Eddie, please tell me you’re not this fucking stupid.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked angrily.

“Nothing,” Richie answered, shaking his head. “Just go back to your room, Eds. I’m sure your bed doesn’t have blood on it.”

“Dude, no,” he said.

“I’m not asking, Eddie. You need to leave.”

Eddie stared, eyes wide. He’d never heard Richie’s voice like that and it made his stomach drop. He felt glued to the floor, watching as Richie sat up and put his feet on the floor.

“Eddie,” Richie said, his voice still cold. “I can’t do this right now, okay?”

“Do what?” He knew he sounded whiny but he couldn’t help it, Richie wasn’t making any sense.

“I can’t talk about my fucking feelings with you, Eddie,” Richie yelled, standing up from the bed. “Not when I just came out to you and you had no fucking reaction, and you’re either stupid or purposely ignoring what I’m trying to tell you, and you’re fucking naked!”

Eddie exhaled heavily. “You said you were attracted to Ben.”

“Oh my God,” Richie laughed to himself, though there was no humor in it. “So you are actually just that fucking stupid, then.”

“I’m not stupid, Richie, I understand what you’re telling me!” He shouted, finding a pair of underwear and gripping them in his hand. “I just – I don’t know what to say! I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“Just say you don’t hate me,” Richie choked. He looked up and there were tears in his eyes. Eddie’s heart lurched. His eyes drifted down, taking in the way Richie’s t-shirt was tight on his broad shoulders, the way it was so thin he could see the pink of his nipples and the black of his chest hair, and even lower than that more black, leading down… “Eddie?”

His head snapped up, heat crawling down his chest. “I-“ He took a moment to regain his thoughts. “I don’t hate you.”

“You sound very believable,” Richie snarked, falling back down onto the bed. “Now that we’ve had this shitty conversation, can you please just leave?”

He was trying to sound unbothered, even verging on annoyed, but Eddie could hear the hurt underneath. He didn’t know how he felt, but he knew he hated to hear Richie sound like that. Gathering his resolve, he found a pair of pajama pants in his luggage and marched back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made short work of dropping the towel and dressing, ignoring the way his hands were shaking.

He'd never thought of another man like that. He’d never –

But that was a lie, and he knew it.

He had thought, he’d just ignored it. Even though he’d told Myra he wasn’t coming home, she was still technically his wife. And for his entire life, he’d technically been a straight man.

(Straight men don’t want a better look at their best friend’s happy trail, his brain told him, and he shut his eyes tightly to try and make the mental image go away.)

So he occasionally spent a little too long looking at other men. And he occasionally thought of strong thighs and broad shoulders and low groans when he got off. But it wasn’t…

He thought back to childhood. Had he felt like this about Richie then, too? He remembered how close they had been, physically. Had he been leading Richie on, all those times he climbed into the hammock with him? All the sleepovers where they shared a twin bed? The movie nights where he hid his head in Richie’s shoulder during the scary parts?

Was it leading someone on if you wanted it, too?

What if you didn’t even know you wanted it?

Did he want it?

He didn’t notice he had begun to wheeze loudly until there were two knocks on the bathroom door. He jumped, gasping for breath he didn’t have. He felt dizzy.

“Eds? Are you okay in there?”

There was concern in Richie’s voice, none of the hurt from before. Eddie yanked the door open to find Richie standing on the other side, his worried look exactly how Eddie had pictured it.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” he mumbled, stepping back so Eddie had room to get through the doorway without getting too close. Eddie didn’t move. He tried to breathe in deeply, gripping onto the door handle. “I didn’t mean to freak you out-“

“Can you help me?” He asked, interrupting Richie’s apology. Before he could answer, Eddie went on. “When I – When I breathe, can you count? Slow; 4 in, hold for 4, out for 4?”

He wasn’t sure if Richie could even understand what he was saying, but Richie was nodding, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed. Once he was sitting he closed his eyes against the dizziness and gasped for air, ignoring the tears that leaked out the side of his closed eyelids.

Richie’s voice was quiet as he counted. It only took a few minutes before Eddie was breathing on time with Richie’s count, and it was only then he realized they were holding hands. With his free hand, he wiped the stray tears from his face. Once he felt like he could speak again, he turned to Richie.

“Panic attack,” he whispered. “Not asthma. Myra always just made me use my inhaler but… I saw a therapist, for a little bit. She taught me how to… How to make it stop, without it.”

“Why would she still think you needed your inhaler if it’s not asthma?” Richie asked, keeping his voice at the same quiet level as Eddie’s.

Eddie huffed a laugh. “Because it makes me weak. She likes me weak.”

“Eds, you’re not weak. You’re probably the bravest of all of us.”

He shook his head. Richie didn’t say anything else, just sat next to him while he focused on keeping his breathing even. He didn’t want to think about Myra, or about the kinds of things you need to be brave for. Richie was still holding his hand, and he let his eyes wander his direction, past where their hands lay in between them and to Richie’s legs, bare in just his boxers.

He’d never paid much attention to his own legs, or really the legs of other men. It wasn’t something that had crossed his mind

(except maybe it had, when he was younger and laying in a hammock, but it wasn’t really about legs then, it was about skin, the electricity he felt on days they both wore shorts)

Except in his dreams, the fantasies he pretended he didn’t have, the ones where thick, hairy thighs were wrapped around him, around his waist, around his head, on either side of his own – and he pretended not to think about what was in between, either, how lightheaded he felt when he got fucked up enough to really let himself think about it, to think about what was inside Richie’s boxers

(but it wasn’t Richie’s cock he dreamed about (wasn’t it, though?) when he took enough of those anxiety meds that his filter turned off)

And he could see it now, at least the outline, where thin material didn’t do enough to hide what was inside.

He was breathing too quickly again.

“Eddie-“

“You need to put pants on,” he choked out, taking in a deep breath.

Richie stood up immediately but Eddie couldn’t look at him as he spoke, embarrassment evident in his voice. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it – I – fuck, I swear I’m not – I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“

“It’s just-“ He sucked in another deep breath, clenching his fists. His mouth started moving without his permission. “It’s – It’s hard to have a fucking gay crisis when your legs and your – your fucking dick are right there and I want-“ he closed his eyes when he heard Richie’s breath hitch. “I just… want. And I can’t have because the second I do I’m – I can’t – It’s wrong, Richie. It’s wrong, right?”

Richie had put on a pair of sweatpants while he was talking, and now he knelt next to Eddie, making sure to keep some distance between them. His face was red, and Eddie could tell his breaths were harsher than normal, could see his own hands clenched into fists. But he didn’t say anything, just looked at Eddie, who choked out a sob. “Help me,” he begged, though he wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking for. He just wanted, and he needed that to be okay.

“It’s not wrong, Eds,” Richie finally said. He sounded breathless. One hand came up to rest on the mattress next to where he sat. “I know it – it was fucking hard growing up when we did, right? Getting called names and listening to people talk about AIDS like it was punishment, and even now, hearing all the bullshit from people who swear it’s all a sin, like it’s something we chose. But we didn’t, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, and if you… If you choose to act on it, you’re still not doing anything wrong.”

“How do you know we won’t go to Hell?” Eddie whispered, grasping the comforter in his hands. He felt young, like a child asking for reassurance, but he felt trapped in his own mind.

“I don’t, really,” Richie answered. Eddie looked at him, helplessly. “But I think… You go to Hell for doing bad shit, right? For being a bad person. But there’s nothing – there’s nothing bad about love. I’m not doing anything bad by loving you.”

“What about sex? That’s – that’s the bad part, right? Love is great and whatever, but when it’s sex…”

“That’s not bad, either,” Richie promised. Eddie jolted when he grabbed one of his hands, uncurling his fingers from the blanket. “It’s natural and normal. But I don’t – I really don’t know what else to say, Eds. That’s probably more suited for like, intense therapy.”

Eddie nodded jerkily, laughing a little and squeezing Richie’s hand.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “for talking me down. You were always the one that took care of me.”

“Yeah, well,” Richie shrugged, voice still soft. “I love you, so I’m gonna take care of you no matter what.”

Eddie wanted to tell him, wanted to say he loved him, too, but the words felt stuck in his throat.

“I’ll always let you take care of me,” he said instead, and hoped Richie understood what he meant.

“What are you going to do next? With – As far as, you know, your marriage?”

Eddie sighed. “She already knows I’m not coming home, but… I still have a job in New York. I guess I’ll have to find an apartment. I don’t know. And you’re right, I should go back to therapy, because I clearly have some shit to work out.”

Richie nodded. “I don’t think there’s a single one of us that doesn’t need to go to therapy weekly for the rest of our lives.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t know how well a therapist would take it if you walked in and started talking about how you fought and killed an evil alien clown.”

Richie laughed. “Eh, I’ll write it into a standup routine instead. Comedy is basically therapy, anyway.”

“No,” Eddie said, vaguely alarmed. Richie was grinning at him. “No, Richie. It’s important to me that you understand joking about your trauma onstage to a bunch of strangers is not the same as therapy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie said, waving him off. He crawled backward until he was leaning against the pillows again, the same way he’d been when Eddie had gotten out of the shower. The bed was big enough that if Eddie were to lay next to him, they wouldn’t be touching. He thought about it. “And if you want, I have an apartment in the city. I’m not there very often, I spend most of my time in LA or on tour, but. There’s two more bedrooms than I need and… I mean, we could split rent or whatever. Even if it’s just til you find a place for yourself.”

Eddie looked at him. He wasn’t avoiding eye contact, but he wasn’t making an effort to look at Eddie, either. His hands were folded on his chest.

“Okay,” Eddie agreed, taking a leap and situating himself next to Richie on the bed. His head hit the pillow and he sighed. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how close Richie was. He fell asleep to the soothing sound of Richie’s even breaths, and when he woke he felt more rested than he had in years.

#ek #eddie month

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