#It srsly gives me chest pains | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jenrecs · 2 years ago

Text

gahhh i'm here i'm here!!

On Sundays I leave stones

atop marble markers to memorialize

those that you and I chose

to leave unturned.

the poem ugh... you really went off right at the beginning didn't you jo 😭 "those that you i chose to leave unturned" let me die pls. nothing - literally nothing - has even happened and i'm already a mess

“Can’t,” he answers. “Already have plans for dinner. Sry!”

You sink onto the couch, grimacing. “Already have plans” means a date.

good for him, but once again, i am a mess on the floor, giving him a thumbs up through tears 😭👍

The thing is, you know you could ask Taehyung to take you to dinner, and he’d do it. Hell, you could probably even say, “Take me on a date,” and he’d do that, too - wear something nice, spray on a more expensive cologne, open the car door for you and pull out your chair, all that shit. He’d do everything exactly right.

okay tae bear do it i can handle the pain let me be delusional for just 24 hours pls 😭

“What would happen if you stopped visiting?” he asks, voice very low. He’s leaning forward, his shoulder close enough to yours that you can feel the heat coming off his body.

what's it to you dimples HUH? are you willing to offer an emotional alternative 🤒

and then literally his whole poem??? like ??? that was so rude jo ??? the way you had me just staring at my phone so speechless ????

and THEN ‘-yet with everything left unsaid, still they said goodbye.’ ??????????? back to back, punch me in the face

But something about this interaction has all of his mental alarm bells ringing - telling him that this might be inching towards dangerous territory.

heeeeeeheeeeeeeeeeee get whipped dimples 😙

“Well,” he says, clearly enjoying his audience and the chance to embarrass his best friend, “when this friend was getting over Elyse, he played Davichi’s Beside Me on repeat for hours at a time, and I know for a fact that he still knows every word.”

no but srsly when i read this i was like HUH? I WAS LISTENING TO DAVICHI ON REPEAT YESTERDAY AFTERNOON (not Beside Me, another song) AND THINKING OH I CAN'T WAIT TO GET IN BED AND READ MFFMHH (bc apparently i can only read when i'm in bed and on my phone)

He watches Jungkook and Jimin dance near the edge of the crowd, peeking surreptitiously over their shoulders to see if any of the girls near them are looking.

yes hi i'm looking i'm paying very close attention

He watches as Taehyung is intercepted by a beautiful, dark-haired girl who stands only as tall as the middle of his chest. He watches as Taehyung stops in his tracks, a grin slowly growing across his face, starting sly and ending open and friendly. It’s deadly, and Namjoon knows he knows it.

Namjoon sees it when your smile crumples, when you quickly stitch it back together and nod eagerly, when you wave goodbye. He sees it when Taehyung and his date slip out the front door, sees it when you let your head drop to your hands, shoulders heaving with one single deep breath.

same girlie same :( go tae bear, go get laid or whatever hahahhaha it's not like my heart is breaking he he ehe ehe he ehe .... but go... live yo life...have fun... don't get an std.... love u ....

“Well,” he counters, “I know that your poem about the graveyard is actually about -” He snaps his mouth shut, sober enough to know a mistake when he’s shin-deep in it, buzzed enough to fail at stopping his gaze from flicking over to where Taehyung and that girl had disappeared through the front door.

damn dimples i know girlie brought up your ex unprovoked but uhhhhh why you gotta come after her like that 😭 salt to the wound akshdkhss

He’s thinking about the way you just noticed things about him, the way you made him feel seen when he was used to feeling the opposite.

nooooo :(((( this made me a different kind of sad. dimples i see you and i love you and fuck elyse, someone call her so i can SQUARE UP!

He’s tempted to reach out a hand and guide you, help you navigate the drunken, dancing crowd. But you aren’t his to protect, and he’s just this minute starting to examine where the urge comes from, what’s blooming here, a tiny bud forming seemingly overnight.

and

Looking at him, you’re tempted to lean against him; the desire comes out of nowhere, comes from the surety you feel that he would feel… safe. Protective. You feel sure he wouldn’t move away. What is this? you wonder. It’s just a moment, just a fleeting thing that will be gone by the next red light, but as tiny as it is, there’s a voice in your head pointing out that you haven’t felt this kind of anything for anyone in your whole life except Kim Taehyung.

ah lord ah lord ah lord. i think this series made me realize that i actually do like slow burn. before, i was always like ehhh i don't have the patience to read slow burn fics, but this !! this is delicious. i am loving the gradual buildup, i am living for their interactions that might not seem like a lot but add up to something so significant. it might be fleeting, but it's there. tbh now i'm getting kinda excited for the tae drama, like i know it'll hurt me ofc but i am READY to be hurt !! screw u bear i have dimples now :D

III. So I Speak Your Name || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

You and Namjoon bond over literature and alcohol.

Section Warnings: language, drinking, drinking games, bar scenes, pov switches between OC and Namjoon a few times

WC: 7.5k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Tuesday October 9th

On Sundays I visit graveyards, paying my respects to the many words that have died on my lips.

On Sundays I leave flowers commemorating each admission that I struck down before it could reach you.

On Sundays I leave stones atop marble markers to memorialize those that you and I chose to leave unturned.

They say you only exist as long as someone remembers you, so I speak your name like my own Hail Mary full of grace.

You scratch out the last four lines and read it back. Then you change your mind, decide you like them, and add them once again at the bottom.

The final so turns into an and. Then you change it back to so. You sigh in frustration, closing your eyes.

“You sound angry,” someone says, and you nearly leap off the stool in your kitchen. Namjoon stands in the doorway, holding a grocery bag, a carton of eggs sticking out the top.

“Why did I choose a writing degree when I’m so bad at writing?” you ask him plaintively.

It’s a little more honest, a little more personal than you two have been before. It just sort of slips, honestly, your head still a bit stuck in the world of words and phrases instead of in the present.

He smiles ruefully and moves into the kitchen, starting to put away his groceries. “I know that feeling,” he admits. Then, not looking at you, he adds, “I didn’t know you were in the writing program. I did it, too, for undergrad. You have Jemisen?”

“Really?” you ask. “How did we live together for a month and not know that? And yeah, Jemisen.”

Namjoon chuckles lightly, and you catch yourself watching his shoulders move as he reaches high in a cupboard to put a box away. “I guess we don’t talk that much,” he admits. “Are you doing fiction for your thesis?”

“Poetry,” you tell him.

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, clearly surprised.

“Wow,” he says, brows furrowed. “Really?”

You laugh a little at the circular nature of your conversation. “Yes, really,” you say, smiling. “Though I will admit to regretting that decision on more than one occasion.”

“Again,” he says, finally folding up his reusable grocery bag and stashing it between the fridge and the counter, “I know the feeling.”

“Are you doing writing for your grad program too?” you ask, suddenly curious.

He nods, leaning back against the counter. It’s that magical golden hour in the apartment, your favorite, when the outside light comes in orange and glowing. It casts a honey tinge over Namjoon’s skin, a softer brown showing up in his dark hair. There’s something sharp in his gaze suddenly, something that’s not usually there - like he’s honing in on something for the first time.

“Fiction?” you prod. This is more interesting than your poetry homework, for sure.

“Unfortunately,” he jokes. “So, poetry? My buddy did that track, he said it was hard. I thought about it, but I didn’t want to give up on fiction entirely, and I knew I couldn’t handle both. Plus my poetry’s pretty bad.”

“So is mine,” you grumble, eyeing your notebook grumpily.

Namjoon gives a sigh and moves towards his room. “I have class tonight,” he tells you, “but if you want to order extra dinner and leave me the leftovers, I’ll pay you for it.”

“Sure,” you say easily, glancing at the clock. You hadn’t really thought about dinner yet, but you’ll need to soon. “Text me what you want. I’ll probably get our usual.”

It strikes you, suddenly, that you two have a usual. It’s early October, the leaves barely starting to turn. It’s the part of fall where you’re too hot when you walk in the sun, and chilly when you walk through the shadows. You’ve only lived with Namjoon for about a month and a half, and somehow you have a usual takeout order.

It’s strange.

But you don’t hate it.

Namjoon leaves a few minutes later, a brown cross-body bag settled against his lower back. You sit at the breakfast bar, your poetry notebook closed in front of you with your pen marking your page, and wonder about your mysterious roommate. You wonder what his poetry is like, what it would tell you about him if you ever got the chance to see it. You wonder if his fiction writing is what keeps him holed up in his room day in and day out, the lights low.

About an hour later, you text Taehyung to see if he wants to come eat dinner.

“Can’t,” he answers. “Already have plans for dinner. Sry!”

You sink onto the couch, grimacing. “Already have plans” means a date.

He’d do everything for the sake of irony.

That’s what it boils down to, and you know it in your bones: intention. Taehyung could spend all twenty-four hours treating you exactly how a boyfriend should, but at the end of the day his intention was not romantic, and there was nothing you could do to change that.

You turn on the tv, determined not to waste your night wondering how his is going.

Thursday October 11th

Thursday marks nearly the middle of the month. It’s unseasonably warm when you walk to class, but you carry a jacket, knowing that when you leave the bookstore after your shift, the chill will warrant it.

You have a bullshit class, one that doesn’t apply to your degree concentration, something that the university requires for everyone. The only saving grace is that it’s short.

When it ends, you have some choices. You don’t have to be at the bookstore until three. You could go back to the apartment. It’s certainly enough time. Or you could get lunch on campus and handle any academic errands you had, as it were.

And, you sort of had an academic errand swimming in the back of your mind.

You head to the building that houses the staff offices for the writing and literature professors. They’re all tucked away in a little wing back behind where the classrooms are. You’ve been there a few times over the years - twice to talk to your academic advisor about your upcoming schedules, and once to help a professor carry her armload of papers and her laptop back from the classroom.

You scan the names on each door until you find Jemisen, and knock tentatively. He turns, surprised.

“Y/N,” he says, and then glances at his computer, as if trying to determine if you’d scheduled a meeting and he’d forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure if it was your office hours,” you say quickly, to let him know he hadn’t made a mistake. “But I had a quick question about my last assignment, and I was already over here on campus…”

“Ah,” he says, understanding. “Well, it is my office hours, but it just so happens that I was called into a last-second budget meeting, because how we spend our money is certainly more important than my students’ academic success!” He looks at you, seeming to think belatedly that this little sarcastic rant might have been better staying in his head. “Anyway, I have a TA here who could help you look at it? I trust him implicitly.”

You’re a little uncomfortable with the idea - Professor Jemisen has been reading and working with you on your poetry for over a year; you don’t want to work on it with a stranger.

“Oh,” you say, “I’m not - I could -.”

A body comes around the corner. “I heard TA. Have I been summoned?”

It’s Namjoon.

You want to vanish through the floor.

“I’ll just -,” you start to say, but Professor Jemisen cuts you off, collecting some papers off of his desk and reaching for the jacket he’d placed on a hook beside the door.

“This is Y/N, she’s a senior in my poetry thesis class,” he tells your roommate. “She’s looking for help reworking a stanza on her last submission, right, Y/N?”

You bluster, you struggle to make words. You want to shake your head no, but your body isn’t cooperating.

“I’m happy to help,” Namjoon says to you. “My office is two doors down.”

Professor Jemisen is already through the door, clapping Namjoon on the back in thanks as he goes. This gives you the chance to collect yourself, jump-start your brain again.

“You get your own office as a TA?” you ask wryly, one eyebrow lifting.

Namjoon smiles. There’s something different about him here, an easy confidence you don’t see him exude when he’s just at the apartment.

“Come on,” he says, and you walk out into the narrow corridor. Namjoon closes Professor Jemisen’s door behind you and leads you to his own space.

“To answer your question,” he says, still smiling sort of sheepishly, “no, TA’s do not get their own offices. This one was empty because Bianca - Professor Whyte - retired and they haven’t replaced her yet… I sort of commandeered it. I share it with two other grad students, technically. Just until the university hires someone.”

He sits at the desk and motions for you to take the chair next to it. The office is clean and pretty empty - a tall bookshelf holds only about half a dozen books, taking up just a small section of one lone shelf. There are two small potted plants on the windowsill, and a coffee mug shoved behind the computer monitor. Otherwise, the room seems unowned, devoid of any identifying artifacts.

“This is very weird,” you say, because you have to say it.

“What is?” he asks absently, his eyes on one of the windowsill plants.

“My roommate reading my poetry,” you say flatly. “My roommate workshopping my poetry with me.”

He turns to look at you, surprise and perhaps a touch of hurt flickering across his face. “If you’re uncomfortable, I can ask someone else to work with you, or you can wait for Professor Jemisen. I didn’t realize…”

You sigh inwardly. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. “You don’t think it’s weird?” you challenge, trying to keep your voice light.

He shrugs. “I’m just doing my job. I’m on the clock. But like I said… if you’re uncomfortable, then let’s find a Plan B.”

“You’re Plan B,” you grumble. “We’d need to find Plan C.”

You kind of want to take his offer of walking away. But you’re already here, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings worse and make things weird at home.

“Here,” you say, rummaging in your bag. “Just don’t, like, peer into my soul or anything.”

Namjoon laughs like he’s surprised by this. “It’s poetry,” he says, grabbing a pen and turning to see what you put on the desk. “I don’t think that’s optional.”

You slide your notebook over to him. “Professor Jemisen hated the second stanza,” you say.

He looks at you, eyes wide. “He didn’t say that.”

You chuckle. “No, but it’s still true.”

Namjoon reads the poem to himself silently, lips moving with the words.

On Sundays I leave flowers commemorating each admission that I struck down before it could reach you.

“Okay,” he says finally, “I think you should keep the top line of the stanza the same - to keep the pattern.”

You nod, listening.

He presses his pen against his lips, eyes narrowed as they scan the lines again. “I think the word admission is too chunky,” he says. “In the second line.”

“Confession?” you supply. “Commemorating each confession?”

“That gives you some nice alliteration,” he notes, nodding.

“Does it flow better?” you prompt.

Namjoon repeats the first two lines to himself, under his breath. “On Sundays I leave flowers, commemorating each confession. Yeah, I think it does.”

“I’ll change it,” you decide, and he does it for you, scratching out admission and writing confession next to it in red ink.

“The third line sucks,” you muse, reading over his arm.

“It doesn’t suck,” he says mildly. “What were you trying to say?”

You think about this. “That each admission - confession, whatever - that the speaker didn’t voice…it’s almost like those words were trying to reach their recipient, but the speaker shot them down in flight, you know? Does that make sense?”

Namjoon ticks his head to the side, thinking. “It makes sense,” he assures you. “I’m just thinking about how to say it.”

You both peer at the stanza in silence, thinking.

“You’ve got this imagery of shooting something down mid-flight, like you just said,” he murmurs, eyes on the page, “but in the first stanza, you say the words die on the speaker’s lips, meaning they never get said in the first place. Maybe you need to change the imagery to holding it in instead of stopping it once it’s out?”

You scan the first stanza again, nodding slowly. “Commemorating every confession that suffocated beneath fresh-packed earth,” you say, voice almost a whisper as you listen to how the phrase would sound.

Namjoon chuckles darkly. “Buried alive? Harsh.”

You tap the page, finger on the bottom stanza. “The confessions - the words - are what died and got buried. But then, in the final stanza, she’s saying she keeps him alive by remembering him, but maybe she’s keeping her confessions alive as well. Like, she’s continuing to give them life by continuing to speak life into them. It works on two levels.”

Namjoon nods, letting out a quick, impressed breath almost like a laugh. “That’s good,” he says, sliding your notebook over to you. “Write it down before you forget.”

You scratch out the second stanza and write in the space next to it,

On Sundays I leave flowers commemorating every confession that suffocated beneath six feet of fresh-packed earth.

“I like it better,” you say, reading the whole thing back to yourself.

“It’s definitely better,” he agrees.

You put a hand on the page, ready to slide it completely away from him, to put it back in your bag.

Namjoon places his fingers on the page, just inches from yours. His index finger strokes the last line, where your hand had pressed the pen to the page and placed there, Hail Mary full of grace.

“What would happen if you stopped visiting?” he asks, voice very low. He’s leaning forward, his shoulder close enough to yours that you can feel the heat coming off his body.

“Excuse me?” you snap. This was exactly what you hadn’t wanted - interpretation, application to your real life.

“The speaker,” he corrects quickly, eyes flicking down to the page and then back up to meet yours again. There’s something gentle and coaxing in his voice as he continues. “What would happen if the speaker decided to spend their time elsewhere? Wouldn’t it be better for them to just… let the dead stay dead?”

Goosebumps cover your arms, but you’re also suddenly pissed. “I don’t have an answer to that,” you say firmly. “It’s poetry, it’s not real life.” You slap the notebook shut and toss it into your bag, tugging on the zipper like your life depends on it. You stand, hiking your bag onto your shoulder.

He’s still looking at you contemplatively, leaning back in his chair, long legs stretching under the desk. Then, he seems to snap out of it, and he peers up at you apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m used to that kind of thinking and response from my grad classes. But you’d already expressed that you weren’t comfortable… I should’ve left that alone.”

You shift from foot to foot, still stinging. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Thanks for the help. I’ll resubmit this version.”

“Y/N,” he calls, stopping you in the doorway. You pause, turning to look. “Would it make you feel better to see a really personal one of mine?” His smile is rueful, his dimples teasing.

You exhale on a laugh. “Only if I get to question your poor life choices when I’m done,” you say.

He laughs at this. “I accept,” he says seriously, a smile still tugging at his lips. “In exchange for your forgiveness.”

You slap your palm lightly against the wooden doorframe, twice. “It’s a deal,” you say, and disappear down the hallway.

–

He sends you a screenshot two hours later. Before you can enlarge it enough to read anything, he sends, “Good GOD this is bad. Enjoy!”

I love you by pressing my fingertips into soil. Is it too dry? Can it go another day? I love you by pushing ceramic just two inches to the left where the sunlight hits at exactly four pm. I love you by wiping dust from leaves just how I'd wipe tears from cheeks. I love you by admiring each new bloom as it appears.

And when I’m thorn-pricked it doesn’t hurt because my only expectation was for it to grow.

You read it twice, then a third time.

[3:22 PM] You: that is NOT bad omg [3:23 PM] You: i need more context so i can mock your bad decisions [3:23 PM] You: that was the deal 😤 [3:27 PM] Namjoon: haha stop it. [3:28 PM] Namjoon: i cringed so hard when i read it again [3:29 PM] Namjoon: but i hope you actually forgive me now

Friday October 12th

‘-yet with everything left unsaid, still they said goodbye.’

Namjoon pounds twice on his desk in victory as he rereads the last line of the chapter he’d just finished. It’s good, he thinks. It’s actually good, the whole chapter. Not perfect - nothing ever would be - but good enough that he feels excited to send it to the cohort and get some feedback.

There’s a noise from his doorway and he spins in the chair, minimizing the document out of habit.

You smile at him from the door. “It’s going well, huh?” you say, a little playfully.

Namjoon feels something like cold run down his legs. It’s the absolute horror of being known. “What are you talking about?” he asks, voice even.

You fold your arms over your chest like you feel defensive. “You hit the desk when you’re happy about it,” you explain.

Namjoon stares at you, absolutely dumbfounded. He hadn’t realized you even knew he was writing, let alone that you’d been tracking his habits well enough to pick up on little things like that. He’s always kept his writing - and his behavior as a writer - pretty private. The only person who had ever seen behind the curtain, so to speak, was Elyse. And look how that turned out.

Namjoon decides to side-step this. He doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he goes with, “Did you need something?”

He knows it’s cold. He doesn’t even mean to be cold. But something about this interaction has all of his mental alarm bells ringing - telling him that this might be inching towards dangerous territory.

Territory he’s been in before. Territory he clawed his way out of.

“Oh,” you say, a little taken-aback. “Well, yeah. I was trying to see if anyone would be into the idea of a game night this weekend? What do you think?”

Namjoon’s about to answer that he doesn’t mind when his conversation with Yoongi and Hobi floats into his brain. He remembers their bony chins digging into his shoulders as they read your texts and affirmed that, yes, he’d hurt your feelings by leaving last time.

“Game night,” he repeats slowly. “Care to elaborate on the plan?”

This makes you smile again, like you’re pleased that he’s entertaining the idea. “Smaller crowd than last time,” you say. “Game categories up for discussion - could do board games, drinking games, video games… maybe a rotation?”

“A rotation,” Namjoon repeats flatly, not sure if you’re joking.

Your smile widens, eyes crinkling. It had been a joke. “We can decide what we feel like,” you say. “I was thinking maybe Saturday night?”

“Okay,” Namjoon says.

“Okay I can plan it… or okay, you’ll be there?” you ask, chewing lightly on the inside of your cheek.

Namjoon feels himself smile despite himself, despite the alarm bells, despite your dead-on observation of his habits. “I’ll stay,” he promises.

Saturday October 13th

The night actually does rotate. Or, rather, you all start with a board game and it delves soon into drinking games. Namjoon finds himself sitting on the living room floor, a whiskey and soda in his hand, watching across an abandoned game board - pieces still laying sideways, forgotten - as you giggle into Taehyung’s shoulder after being brought down by a very targeted round of Never Have I Ever.

(Never have I ever… worn a bra. …used a curling iron. …put on mascara. …cried to a Hallmark movie. The guys went right down the line, 1-2-3-4-5, you never had a chance.)

“You have to drink, Y/N,” Jungkook says, poking you with his socked foot.

“Get your toe-socks off of me,” you try to snap, but you’re still fighting giggles and you sound as menacing as a puppy.

“I think we need a no-targeting rule,” Yoongi says fairly, watching as you dutifully down your cup and rise to mix yourself a new one. “Or Y/N will end up in the hospital tonight.”

“I am not holding your hair this time,” Taehyung shouts into the kitchen. “Once was enough!”

“It was enough for me, too, believe me,” you answer him seriously, but your mouth twitches. You’re still fighting giggles.

“He’s right,” Jimin speaks up. “No more targeting - not just Y/N, for anyone. It won’t be fun that way.”

“Should we switch games?” Hobi asks. “How about Kings?”

Namjoon groans. “I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“Then get drunker,” Taehyung tells him, nodding towards the kitchen bar - littered with half-full liquor bottles and various mixers - where you’re still standing with your cup.

“I’m working on it,” Namjoon tells him, lifting his nearly-empty cup as proof.

You settle back onto the floor across from him, carefully holding your freshly filled cup so that it doesn’t slosh over the edges. “What’d we decide?”

The game of Kings begins harmlessly - Jungkook picks an 8 and chooses Jimin to drink whenever he drinks, no surprise there. Jimin picks a 4, and everyone slaps the floor - Yoongi is last, so he drinks.

Then Hobi picks a King - make up any rule, any rule at all - and his eyes sparkle with unspilled mischief.

“T-Rex arms!” Taehyung shouts. “T-Rex arms for the rest of the night!”

“Funny accents for the rest of the night!”

“You have to drink every time you say someone’s name!”

“You have to drink every time anyone says ‘what’!”

Everyone shouts their suggestions, but Hobi waves his hands to quiet them.

“If you say someone’s name,” he begins, and everyone leans forward, interested, “they get to tell the group some tea about you.”

Everyone lets out an ooooh of appreciation.

“That’s gonna get messy,” you observe, eyes wide.

The game continues, everyone being careful to tap each other’s knees to get their attention instead of calling their names. But as the hour grows later and the alcohol flows, you all forget to be so careful. When Jimin gets up to grab another drink, Jungkook calls, “Jimin, will you bring me a beer?”

“You said his name!” Nearly the whole circle shrieks it at once, pointing sloppily at Jungkook in accusation.

“Ji- I mean, sir in the kitchen, you get to tell us some tea about Jung- I mean, this one,” Hobi says, correcting himself around a series of belly laughs.

Jimin grins like the cat who ate the canary. “He’s the one who broke his good headphones.” He points at Yoongi to indicate which his he means since he can’t say Yoongi’s name.

“Hyung!” Jungkook cries, betrayal written all over his face and voice.

At the same time, Yoongi’s head whips around to look at his younger friend in accusation. “You owe me money for those! They were my favorite!”

“I told you,” you say, your voice carrying sweetly over the din. “Messy.”

The game continues, pausing when Yoongi misses his turn as he’s too busy looking up how much his headphones cost so he can show Jungkook.

Without thinking, Namjoon lazily says, “You’re up, Yoongi.”

Everyone looks at him, grins growing like predators who have discovered injured prey.

“Oh, damn,” he sighs. Yoongi looks up from his phone, eyes glinting.

Namjoon’s not sure how to name the emotion that surges from his stomach up to his face; mortified, sure. Angry, a little. Everyone around the circle is laughing - Jimin’s even wiping a lone tear from under his eye. Is it funny, from the outside? He guesses it is. He feels a little detached, a little floaty.

“Oh shit, Elyse!” Taehyung sort of shouts, sitting up a little. “I forgot about her!”

“That’s cute,” Namjoon says. “Wish I could.” Even he can hear how bitter he sounds.

“What ever happened with her?” Taehyung asks, more musing than actually directing the question at Namjoon, or anyone.

“Tae!” you scold, elbowing him. “You’re such an insensitive ass, do you know that?”

To his credit, Taehyung looks abashed and backpedals immediately. “I mean - sorry - I’m just curious. Didn’t mean to put you on blast.”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon says, but he’s dying to get out of that room, out of everyone’s sight, away from the fading laughter and from the sideways, searching look you’re giving him. He stands, tries to keep his face passive. “I’m gonna… go pee.”

He slides into the dark of his room and heads for the bathroom. He doesn’t even need to go, he just needs it to look like he left for a reason. Behind him, he can hear Yoongi despite his purposely lowered voice as he says, “She left him back in June. Same shit as always - he loved her way more than she liked him.”

Namjoon wishes he could refute this. Even if he’d been out there to defend himself, he couldn’t. Yoongi knew every detail about Namjoon’s last relationship and the break-up that ended it, and his assessment was right.

Namjoon had liked her - loved her - more than she liked him. His expectations were too high for what she could give him. Sometimes he wondered if she was the problem, or if he was. Were his expectations for a partner too high in general? Was he asking too much, wanting someone to care for him the way he cared for them?

When he comes out of the bathroom, Yoongi is leaning against his desk waiting for him.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “The song part is funny - I was thinking about it because you were humming it in the library yesterday. I didn’t think about the… Elyse of it all. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. Especially in front of…” He trails off. But Namjoon knows where the sentence was going.

He doesn’t even have the oomph to argue it.

“I know,” he says simply. “It’s okay.”

“If we hadn’t been drinking…” Yoongi says, voice a little thoughtful. “I mean, I’m not trying to make excuses. I just would have considered my words a little more carefully.”

“I know,” Namjoon says again, insistent. “It’s okay, hyung. I’m not mad at you. Let’s go back.”

When they return to the group, it seems that in their absence you had organized the board game again and gotten everyone focused. He wasn’t sure if you’d done it on purpose, diverted their attention to rules and set-up so they wouldn’t look too closely at his face as he took his spot again, but he appreciated it regardless.

Taehyung catches his eye, grimaces in apology. Namjoon gives a shrug and a headshake, letting him know they’re alright.

How can he be mad? Are they supposed to pretend his mistakes don’t exist? He can’t impose his own rules on others, it wouldn’t be fair.

Friday October 19th

The week passes in a blur. Namjoon works on his book, workshops for his classmates, goes to class, attends his TA hours, eats, sleeps, walks outside when he can. You exist in orbit around him, sometimes communicating in passing - but only in passing. You spend no time together, have no conversations, share no text messages or meals.

It’s starting to feel safe again, Namjoon thinks. Those alarm bells have quieted down. Now they act more like disgruntled guard dogs who think they saw something in the yard; they keep their narrowed, suspicious eyes on the gate, giving unhappy grumbles now and then.

Of course, the universe never lets him rest for long. On Friday night, Hobi texts him at eight, “Bar! You have two hours to mentally prepare! I will see you there or else!!!”

Namjoon texts back, “you need to calm down with the exclamation points”. But he still turns to eye his open closet, pondering what to wear.

–

Sometimes, Namjoon just watches people. People watching is a thing, right? He catches himself at it all the time - at train stations, on campus, in malls, and here - now - at the bar.

He watches throngs of young women mix onto and away from the dance floor, ebbing and flowing like high and low tide, like they obey the moon too. He watches men his age eye the scene like hawks.

He watches the bartenders hustle from one end to another, hands in constant motion as they exchange money, clutch shakers, wipe out glasses, open beers. He watches the bouncer sweep his gaze over the crowd, like a seaside lifeguard.

He watches Hobi and Yoongi bend their heads together, talking animatedly over something on Hobi’s phone. He watches Jungkook and Jimin dance near the edge of the crowd, peeking surreptitiously over their shoulders to see if any of the girls near them are looking. He watches Jin throw his head back in laughter at whatever the pretty girl before him has said.

He watches you lean forward on your elbows, eyes on Taehyung’s face like they’re magnetically drawn, as he talks to you. You both laugh at something; you finish your drink. Namjoon watches as Taehyung leans over to say something to you, slides off of his barstool, makes his way towards the dark hallway that houses the restrooms. You flag down a bartender, ordering a new drink.

You aren’t watching Taehyung make his way back from the bathroom, but Namjoon is. He watches as Taehyung is intercepted by a beautiful, dark-haired girl who stands only as tall as the middle of his chest. He watches as Taehyung stops in his tracks, a grin slowly growing across his face, starting sly and ending open and friendly. It’s deadly, and Namjoon knows he knows it.

Namjoon sees it happen when the girl cocks her head towards the front entrance, sees it when Taehyung nods and leans down to say something to her before zig-zagging his way through the crowd back to where you sit, waiting for him.

When you raise your head again, your eyes meet his.

And he sees it - all of it. He sees the crushing disappointment, the resignation, the acceptance.

He’s moving without making the decision to move, his beer glass cold against his hand as he makes his way to the empty spot next to you.

“Sorry,” he says, not hiding that he’d seen exactly what happened, had witnessed Taehyung abandon you for preferred company.

You give yourself a little shake and give him a tiny smile. “Don’t be,” you say easily. “Good for him - I wish I had half his luck.”

Namjoon wouldn’t say he knows you that well if he was asked, doesn’t think himself an expert on your personality. But he knows it’s bravado. He can just tell.

But he’ll let you save face. He’d want the same.

He struggles to find something to talk to you about. His brain goes empty, like static, the second he relies on it. Finally, as you stir the ice cubes around your drink, trying not to look as dejected as you feel, he asks, “How’s senior thesis going? What are the criteria for poetry students?”

You perk up, sitting up straighter and releasing the plastic straw you’d had pinched between your fingers. “It’s going okay,” you tell him, glancing over sideways at him like you want to make sure he’s actually interested in the answer, not just asking to be polite. “The criteria? It’s half a written portfolio, half an author study.”

“Who’d you pick?” Namjoon asks, taking a sip of his beer and finding it low.

You smile at him mischievously, eyes sparkling a little. “Guess,” you challenge.

He feels himself smile in return. “Rumi,” he shoots out.

Your laugh bursts from you, surprising both of you. “That’s your first guess?” you laugh. “Seriously? Going straight to Rumi?”

“Am I wrong?” he asks, chuckling.

“Yes,” you insist. “Try again.”

He ponders it for a second. “Whitman. Yeats. Eliot.”

“Absolutely not,” you say. “Quit naming dead white dudes.”

Namjoon laughs again. “Poe?”

“Still a dead white dude!”

He stops, thinks again. “Olds,” he finally guesses.

You raise your eyebrows. “Wow, obscure.”

He shrugs. “She seems like your type.”

You laugh at that, a peal of laughter that has you hunching over your drink. “You’re not wrong about that,” you admit.

“I think you need to just tell me,” Namjoon admits.

“Surely you know more poets than that!” you tease accusingly.

“Of course I do,” he allows. “But I think this little game could go on for a very long time.”

You laugh again, and Namjoon feels a smile tug at his lips.

He growls a mental shut up at the part of him that wants to keep making you laugh.

“St Vincent Millay,” you say, caving.

“Wow,” he says, just a bit struck dumb. Because what are the odds you’d pick her? “A favorite.”

You smile at him, eyes crinkling. “You know hers?”

Namjoon is pretty sure he has a copy of Alms stuffed between pages of his favorite notebook, a memento to his post-Elyse days, when he was - yes - listening to Beside Me on repeat and reading every heartbreak poem he could get his hands on, all in the name of feeling understood. All in the name of feeling less alone.

“My heart is what it was before, / a house where people come and go; / But it is winter with your love -” Namjoon quotes from Alms instead of answering.

You keep your eyes on him, steady, as you finish in a quiet voice, “The sashes are beset with snow. Alms? I wrote about that one for my thesis the other day.”

Namjoon catches the bartender’s eye. “If I get a few shots, do you want one?” he asks, looking over at you. You nod, he orders something cinnamony, and then he returns to your earlier conversation. “Alms is one of the only ones of hers I can quote off the top of my head. But it’s… my favorite of hers.”

You give him a sly smile. “I argued in my thesis that Alms is a diss-track.”

Namjoon splutters. “What?” he demands.

You grin, loving this. “It is winter with your love? Like, tell me your lover is cold without telling me your lover is cold. Plus, all those lines in the middle about how she tends her plants in winter? Of course that’s your favorite.”

As the bar-tender pushes filled shot-glasses towards him, Namjoon just stares at you. You have this uncanny way of knowing things about him, and it’s unnerving. Partly because he doesn’t know that much about you, and partly because he hadn’t realized he was so easy to read.

You each take a shot glass, clicking them together before knocking them back. The burn of alcohol in his throat urges him to speak up, to address it.

“You remember how you mentioned that I tend to hit the desk when I'm happy with what I wrote?”

You frown with your whole face, brows and all, not following his line of thought at all. “...Yeah…” you say, voice wavering with uncertainty.

Namjoon looks away, at the wood of the bar beneath his fingers, at the crowd of people shouting their conversations around them, at the empty glasses waiting to be whisked away. “What else do you know?”

He’s not sure what makes him say it. Maybe he’s tired of you dropping these little observations here and there and wants them all out at once.

You trace a whorl in the wood with your pointer finger. Thoughtfully, voice sounding somewhat far away, you tell him, “You pace when you’re stuck. You listen to rap when it’s flowing and classical when it’s not.”

Namjoon lets out a single, shuttering laugh, barely louder than an exhale. “I’m trying to think of a less rude way to ask this, but why - how - do you know this stuff?”

You twist your mouth sideways into the cousin of a smile, self-deprecation written all over your face. “I spend a lot of time in the living room,” you say defensively with a bit of a laugh. “I can’t help but notice. You’re not very secretive.”

That’s the thing. Namjoon thought he was.

You sit in silence for a minute, the loudness of the bar’s music and chatter flowing around you. Then, completely unprompted, you add, “I know that poem you sent me is about your ex.”

Namjoon’s head snaps up, his eyes finding yours. He searches your face for anything unkind, anything mocking. Elyse had made him feel stupid - something he had very little experience with - and he was evading that feeling every second since. But there’s none to be found as you look back at him patiently.

“Y/N,” he says finally, “don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck.”

Once you’re sure he isn’t going to get mad or defensive, you relax, shooting him a knowing smirk. “Please,” you protest. “The line about how you can’t get hurt because you had no expectations? A juxtaposition to when you have certain expectations of a partner, and how it hurts when they’re not met. Like expecting someone to love you back, and then they don’t.”

��I think I need to be rescued from this conversation,” Namjoon jokes, pretending to look around for a life-line. “Quit it with the direct shots!”

You shrug innocently. “I’m not making any judgments about it. Just saying I understand the message.”

“How many drinks have you had?” Namjoon demands.

“I don’t know… three or four? Why?”

He can’t say because you’re saying very honest shit and people are usually polite enough to not do that. “You’re just… dropping words like juxtaposition and I…. truly don’t know how to handle it.”

You give him a wide smile, proud and teasing. “Just admit that I have a big, sexy brain.”

If this is the game you want to play, he thinks, he can play it.

He watches - literally watches it happen - as a wall crashes down over your face. The open, teasing expression flattens into dull nothingness, your smile melts into a thin line, your eyes leave his and settle on your hands.

Namjoon opens his mouth to apologize, but the heavy weight of someone’s arm across his shoulders distracts him.

“Are you two talking about poetry?” Hobi asks, voice a touch too loud. “We already have a resident nerd, Y/N, we don’t need another.”

You grasp at the interruption desperately. “Not just any poetry. His poetry.”

Hobi gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest like a wounded man. “He let you read his own poetry? My God.”

Namjoon sits back, allows Hobi and Yoongi to incorporate themselves into the conversation, lets the moment slip away. He zones entirely out of the conversation, lost in his own thoughts, letting the others pick up his slack.

He’s thinking about Alms and thinking about Elyse, thinking about how St Vincent Millay’s line “But it is winter with your love” had rolled around his brain for a solid month as he was wrestling with the insecurity and pain of loving someone who just didn’t feel it too. Elyse hadn’t been cold - at least, not until the very end. Yet, even still, it had never been… enough.

He’s thinking about the way you just noticed things about him, the way you made him feel seen when he was used to feeling the opposite.

He’s thinking, and it’s probably a little fucked up, that Elyse had lived with him for over three months - sharing a bed, even - and had never picked up on his mannerisms this way.

He keys back into the conversation when he notices you signing to close out your card.

“Are you going home?” he asks you, the first words he’s said in a while. Both Yoongi and Hobi turn to look at him, as if they, too, forgot he was sitting there.

“Yeah,” you tell him. You meet his eyes, but your voice is still a little flat. “I was gonna Uber.”

“Wanna share?” he suggests.

You look at your hands again. “You don’t have to leave just because I’m leaving,” you say.

Hobi and Yoongi swivel their heads back and forth in silence, watching this conversation like a table-tennis match.

“I’m ready to go. But I can get my own ride if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No,” you say quickly. “I’m not. That would… that’s fine.”

You say goodbye to the guys and Namjoon follows you through the bar. He’s tempted to reach out a hand and guide you, help you navigate the drunken, dancing crowd. But you aren’t his to protect, and he’s just this minute starting to examine where the urge comes from, what’s blooming here, a tiny bud forming seemingly overnight.

Outside, the silence hits him like the slap of an ocean wave. The night is warm, despite it being late October.

You walk silently towards the curb, phone in your hand. You don’t look back at him.

“Y/N,” he says quietly. You glance over your shoulder, frosty, but you soften almost instantly when you look at him. The apology must be clear as day on his face. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

You sag with a sigh. “No,” you say. “I asked for it. I started it. You’re not supposed to dish it if you can’t take it, or something.”

Namjoon doesn’t agree or disagree, doesn’t shake his head. He just keeps his gaze on you, heavy and serious, and repeats, “I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

You drop your eyes again - he’s noticing you do that when you’re nervous, unsure of your words. Then, eyes on the road instead of on him, you say, “Assuming I was right about… you know, the poem… I’m sorry you went through that.”

Namjoon raises his eyes, up past the bar’s neon sign, up past the yellow-lit apartment windows above it, up past the fire escape and the rusty rooftop structures. He finds stars, glinting and joking from behind swiftly moving wisps of clouds.

“Thanks,” he says. That’s all.

“It’s hard when the people we love…” you trail off, rub your hands up and down your arms as if to ward off chill on a definitively unchilly night. “It’s hard when they disappoint us. For whatever reason.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says. The Uber pulls up, and you check the license plate against what’s on your phone screen before reaching for the back door. He’s got that same urge again, to reach out and guide you into the car. He shifts his hand into a fist, wills himself to get his shit together. As you slide over to make room for him, he lets one last breath out towards those same stars. “Yeah, it is.”

–

Inside the Uber, you scoot to make room for Namjoon to slide in next to you, folding his long legs in behind the front passenger seat.

The ride begins in silence, except for the driver’s music, which currently plays an advertisement in a language you don’t speak and can’t even identify.

You feel a little dizzy, maybe from the drinks. Maybe from getting vulnerable with your roommate. You lean your head back against the headrest and close your eyes. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s side, can sense him, solid, less than a foot away.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low, to keep the conversation as close to private as possible.

You open your eyes, looking sideways at him. He looks back at you, searchingly. You’re struck for the first time, here in the back of a stranger’s shitty Kia, by how pretty his eyes are - full of warmth and depth, but also something sly, like he constantly knows something you don’t, yet.

Looking at him, you’re tempted to lean against him; the desire comes out of nowhere, comes from the surety you feel that he would feel… safe. Protective. You feel sure he wouldn’t move away.

What is this? you wonder. It’s just a moment, just a fleeting thing that will be gone by the next red light, but as tiny as it is, there’s a voice in your head pointing out that you haven’t felt this kind of anything for anyone in your whole life except Kim Taehyung.

You fold your hands in your lap, turn to look straight ahead through the windshield. You can’t lie to him while looking at him.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m fine.”

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thank you so much for reading!!!! we're past the set up, stuff is movin!!!! please consider some type of feedback, even just 'loved it!' or a keysmash lets me know it's not hot garbage!

Section IV will post on Friday, February 3rd. I hope to see you there!!!!

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realcube · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! characters with a chubby! s/o 💗

characters: tsukishima, oikawa, atsumu, osamu & suna

thank you anon for this cute request 🥺

tw// comfort, fluff, angst if you squint, insecure! reader, swearing, they/them reader but reader wears a dress (in osamu’s)

(a/n): anon requested comfort but i feel bad bc i’m writing this like ‘no, (y/n)! stop being sad! you’re beautiful! 😡’ then i remember that i can just select+delete the pain away💗💖

Kei Tsukishima

let’s not pretend like tsukki gives a fuck what you look like tbh ✋

like nobody is ‘perfect’ and everyone is insecure (to varying degrees) so why would he care about your weight?

nobody ticks every single box to meet society’s definition of ‘beauty’

plus, tsukki thought beauty standards were stupid away so he created his own - and you meet every single one 💖

in fact, almost everyone meets his beauty standards - besides himself ‘:)

he seriously doesn’t care about your weight tbh, it’s the most trivial thing so why would he care?

although, he wasn’t naïve enough to think that everyone was like-minded

your front of ‘i don’t care about what other people think of me’ was strong enough to fool even the most observant of poeple, including tsukki

however, tsukishima failed to take into consideration that you were his girlfriend, meaning that you could be playing the same game as him; ‘pretend to not care about superficial things like beauty so nobody will think for a second that you are insecure about your body’

he wasn’t one to give compliments but neither were you tbh so the mutual agreement y’all have of ‘let’s call each other names as a form of endearment to avoid those awkward moments were you are looking for the right words for praise but can’t come up with anything’ was fair

but after you accidentally sent him a self-deprecating ‘joke’ message that was clearly meant for a friend, he never passed up the opportunity to compliment you ever again

like he kinda just stared at the message like 😮 ‘does (y/n) seriously care about their weight? why? it doesn’t even matter. how stupid! who told them that the shape of their body is important? bc it’s not..’

then he turns to look in the mirror like ‘wow you srsly need to put on muscle, lanky bitch. or else (y/n) will probably leave you for some built jackass like kuroo. pick up some weights, noodle arms!’

anyway, he’s not too good with words and comfort in situations like these but he’ll probably reply to your text with something out-of-character and surprisingly sweet

to paraphrase (bc the actual text would probably be like a whole damn persuasive essay LMAO he starts with the introduction, makes five points and finishes with a conclusion pfft) , i think it would be something like: ‘hey, (y/n). ik that text was probably meant for one of your friends (but if they’re the ones making you feel bad about your weight then you should probably drop those toxic cunts anyway 💅✨) but i just wanted to say that even though you are the biggest clown i’ve ever met (/j) you’re still v beautiful 💗 stop being insecure or i’ll pass away ⚰💀 ok thx love you bye’

Tōru Oikawa

how are you insecure if you’re dating oikawa? /j

like he is such a hypeman

whenever y’all take pics in your ✨fancy outfits ✨ for formal event, he acts as though you are second most beautiful thing on the face of this earth 😍 (second to him ofc)

but he only does that so he can keep up the reputation he has of being effortlessly confident bc he’s scared that if it slips for even a second, everyone will see how truly insecure he is

truthfully, in his eyes, you come first place by miles (❤ ω ❤)

like srsly, you’re so gorgeous in that dress!! he hopes that you know that he is joking about the whole ‘second place’ thing bc you should be able to tell by the way he looks at you that you’re genuinely the most striking person he’s ever laid his eyes on

you never acted overly confident in front of him but he definitely didn’t think you were as insecure as you are

he thought you were just..humble :)

sometimes he’d hear you mutter something mean about yourself as you passed the mirror but he paid no mind to it as he figured that you just cared about your appearance and wanted to maintain a certain image

however, once he was made aware that you didn’t want to maintain your image but rather, change it - he never let you murmur anything nasty about yourself under your breath ever again, not without proceeding to tackle you to the ground and shower you with his love, affection & praise 💞💕❤

and he never made a ‘second place’ joke ever again, he started his honesty streak by reassuring you that you’ll always be the number one in his eyes 🤩

also, after that, he was a lot more open about his own insecurities with you and you made sure to respect them and help him in a similar way that he did

there is just so much love and admiration between the two of you and at first you were both to shy to express it but now, you both are showering each other in compliments 24/7 bc you both just want the other one to know how perfect you view them as (❁´◡`❁)

Atsumu Miya

atsumu is a hypeman like oikawa but...better :)

IT’S BC HE HAS NO SHAME

he’ll compliment you on anything you wear and he makes it a point to use the most inappropriate compliment as possible, relative to the outfit you’re wearing

so if you’re wearing your pyjamas, he’ll call you ‘glamourous’

if you are wearing a swimsuit, he’ll call you ‘elegant’

if you’re in your work clothes/school uniform, he’ll call you ‘sexy’

and if you’re in lingerie, he’ll call you ‘adorable’

but it makes you blush so hey, no complaints

so when he finds out that you’re actually insecure about your weight, he’s just like ‘no ❤’

like he hates the idea that when you look in the mirror, you don’t see the god(dess) he sees

like why? it’s the same person

💞 fuck ‘perception’ 💞

💕 ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ TF YOU ARE THE FUCKING BEAUTY💕

grrr he was so mad

but he was also soft

he was like ‘if (y/n) insecure? then why hot? then why pretty? then why fit perfectly into my arms?’

plus, THIGHS

he’d never diss a person bc they had small thighs or anything BUT he’d also NEVER complain about being given the chance to be with someone with some good thighs 👍

tbh the best could do to help was compliment you ten times harder to eliMINATE ALL YOUR INSECURIES

(and ofc i don’t mean that in a way - for example - if you’re insecure about your nose, he’ll fkn chop it off......he won’t chop your nose off LMAO he’ll just show you how much he loves it, to the point where you have no choice but to love it too ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ )

anyway, plz love (or at least, tolerate) yourself or else he’ll suffocate you with all his love and affection :D

Osamu Miya

osamu is at a loss when it comes to typical beauty standards tbh

to him, weight (and most things) are similar to..hand size, for example

just like how you can’t imagine someone feeling self-conscious about the size of their hand (especially if their hand is a healthy size)

he can’t imagine why some one would be shamed for their weight (especially if they’re a healthy size)

so had no idea you could possibly be insecure about something like that and he probably on realised after a few years in the relationship 😅

there was a formal event coming up and y’all were going as dates so you wanted to shop for outfits together

as couples do ��

anyway, he was on a dress site, scrolling away until you pointed out one that you thought was pretty - and it matched the color of the tie osamu bought too!

it was a fair price (for a formal dress 🙄 which is probably like $68/50) so osamu was like ‘buy it then ( •̀ ω •́ )✧’ bc he thought it would so gorgeous on you

but you were like ‘no’

and after he pried further, you explained how you thought it wouldn’t ‘suit your body type’

GRRR HE dislikes IT WHEN PPL SAY THIS SO MUCH BC HOE YOU DON’T HAVE A BODY TYPE YOU’VE GOT A BODY 😡💕 WEAR THE DAMN DRESS IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BEAUTIFUL

but like deadass it’s not your blood type- it’s just a thing ppl made up to make ppl (mostly women) feel bad about themselves for no reason

but that might just be his inner atsumu talking 🤷‍♂️

he didn’t even know what to say at first- he was just like ????? body type ????

but once he figured out what you meant, he still had no idea what to say- at least, without sounding rude

what if someone came up to you and told you they were insecure about the shape of their knee.......what do you even say???

so he was silent for like the rest of the day

you decided to give him some space just in case something happened which had upset him

he had no idea what to say, in all honesty, so he hoped that his actions spoke louder than words

around 3 days had passed since you last spoke to osamu and you were beginning to think something you had said made him uncomfortable

you were studying in your room until there was a ring at your door so you rushed downstairs and you opened it to reveal a package sitting on your doormat

you had recently ordered some cleaning equipment so you were sure that the content of the package was probably that

so imagine your surprise when you tear it open to reveal — you guessed it — the dress 💕

Rintarō Suna

when he says that he doesn’t care what ppl look like, he means it

he upkeeps his own appearance though bc..it’s his!

like why would he care about what weight you are? that’s none of his business

as you can tell, he’s generally not shallow but sometimes when y’all are just cuddling and your face is pressed to his chest, the words ‘you’re so cute’ just fall from his lips

so ofc he appreciates compliments over his skills, personality, humour etc over flattery about his appearance

hence, the praise he gives you is usually based around those things too bc he just thinks that you’re just like him in the fact you don’t appreciate skin-deep comments

so when he found out that you’re actually insecure about your weight (or something else), he kinda blames himself

he thinks that the whole reason you’re not extremely confident in your appearance is all due to him and the fact he fact he maybe didn’t compliment you on your looks enough — but that’s not to say that he doesn’t think you’re beautiful

you’re the most radiant person he’s ever laid his eyes on and he thought you knew that regardless of whether he vocalised it or not

he wasn’t really sure what to do tbh

bc he loved you and wanted to comfort you ofc but he was scared of making things worse

like what if something he says accidentally makes you so upset that you break-up with him 😭

but he knew he couldn’t just stay silent about the issue, especially when he wanted to say to much

thus, he sent you a heartfelt message on discord

(rather than snap, whatsapp etc so he could edit it after he posts it bc knowing him, he’ll probably write something, reread it ten times then as soon as he hits send, he spots a bunch of mistakes)

and he’d explain how you’re simply divine regardless of your insecurity and if anything, it just makes you cuter 😍

ok ok so i really don’t want it so seem like he has a fetish bc HE DOESN’T

but he think your curves are so fun and pretty ❤

like everything about you is pretty but suna just can’t comprehend why you’re insecure about something like your weight when he literally adores it (bc he adores everything about you)

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tobi-momo · 4 years ago

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Cuddling With Them While They Game PT 2

a/n: kasjsdhakdjs pls- when i got this req i sqealed srsly i love it ty for this :p

Type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff, crack???

Warnings: none :)

i made a part one with bakugou, kirishima, and todoroki!

he doesnt usually play games but when he does he tries his best and its so cute🥺

feel like he has game rage, but its like him trying to smile through the pain and act like he isnt mad💀

HE PLAYS CONSOLE KASKDJSAKD BUT NOT LIKE THE BEANBAG LIKE KIRI ITS CONSOLE WHERE HES ON THE FLOOR RIGHT UP CLOSE TO HIS TV SITTING AT THE FOOT OF HIS BED

KASSDSKHGDAK THATS SO CUTE PLS-

so imagine: you walking in his dorm room, expecting him to be studying or working on his technique, but instead you find him on the floor in front of his bed, a blanket covering his head as he presses the buttons ruthelessly while he whispers little curses at himself starting to get mad

you closing the door got his attention, so he invited you to sit next to him, so you do

at first it was a little awkward bc he wasnt sharing the blanket (you cant convince me he isnt a blanket hog you cant) and his eyes were glued to the tv screen like he forgot you were there

you started to get tired, your head drooping on his shoulder- his body goes absolutely stiff- like- midoryia.exe has stopped working youre gonna have to wait for him to windows 8 reboot

once he finally looks at you and youre like this close to falling asleep he turns your body away rq to move the blanket off his shoulder so your head can rest on his actual shoulder and the blanket is around you too

he usually doesnt have his mic on at all, and if it is he usually doesnt talk unless hes going along w a joke? iykwim?

i feel like he plays games like call of duty and halo (he loves animal crossing and sucks at among us) but he doesnt like when he sees them actually die? like the gore and stuff? idk he just gives those vibes yk? i feel like hed feel really bad kaskjdshad hed get over it tho

i cant really see him play minecraft, tho, i mean unless youre playing w him, i dont think he would play it by himself unless he was like building a fucking castle for you or sum-

but ya you start to go to his room more when he games to hang out and every. single. time. you. fall. asleep. he isnt complaining tho he loves your sleeping face :p

when you sleep on him he usually wrapss an arm around you and when he can presses little butterfly kisses on the top of your head and takes his hand to rub your arm up and down oml kdajsd pls-

he plays both computer and console i just think he plays he console a bit more?

ok this is a lil soft and maybe a bit ooc but i like if you were to come in while hes playing games you would sit down between his legs, your back to his chest while he plays

he would either rest his head on whatever is behind him or he would rest it on your shoulder (if youre more on the taller side)

and okokok i feel like if you were curious ab how the game works he would def let you play for him for a sec, he would guide yu on what the buttons do and what your tasks are yk? (again w the soft shi im sorry kasjhsdfjf *cri*)

he would keep an arm around your waist while letting you play or he would rub your thigh (maybe both kasdjshd) while he watches you play

if you get a lil frustrated he would totally tease you ab it then tell you how to do it right oml

if you get tired he would take the controller from you and let you sit back on him chest, resting on him while he games

he might turn the volume down a lil, but i also think he doesnt care that much LMFAO

i feel like he would rub your side a lil its almost tickly but hes a lil more firm than that yk?

he would keep his curses at a minimum although he doesnt have that much game rage at all bc again, he doesnt care, but ppl are stupid so he might get frustrated sometimes

once you fall asleep and hes been playing for a while he might just leave the game hes in and carry you to bed and get in with you

i dont think hes much of a cuddler at all but a little bit of contact is ok w him

but then you start to shift and scoot towards him in your sleep

until you are either completely ontop of him or your head is in the crook of his neck and hes just sitting there like 😐😤😒

but he warms up to it bc he wuvs you (read: hes fucking whipped)

ao he lazily puts an arm around you and bears it for a couple more hours

but when yall wake up he finds himself literally clinging to you KASDJHSALKDJ

he. plays. computer. end of conversation

he got the wasd game iykwim😩 (ill shut the door on my way out)

he absolutely loves it when you come to sit on his lap while he just- he loves it sm

he plays all types of games (except overwatch. you will not catch this man playing overwatch pls-)

i feel like you wouldnt run into him playing games he would always play them once youre with him in the room

he wants you to be w him while he games, he wants you to watch him or just be there

youd be laying on his bed, hust doing whatever, scrolling on your phone while you hear him set up

you love to cuddle him- i just KNOW hes amazing at it

so when you hear him clicking away and see him sit down you stand up and walk to him

he doesnt even have t look at you before he opens himself up to you to sit on his lap

you watch him play (and his hands kasjlsdh) and sometimes you ask him questions ab it- hed be happy to walk you through it and explain

if you wanna play he'll let you play, teaching you everything ab the character and shit

he is the most patient person on earth i KNOW

he doesnt get game rage

he is literally so stoic- so calm i swear

he doesnt use his mic like at all

HE LOVES PLAYING WITH YOU

teasing to the max th- its cute tho he isnt being a meanie

loves playing among us and animal crossing (he def plays)

yall usually go to your island bc he likes it more kasdslahd

and when hes the imposter? hes like fucking corpse i swear

if youre sleep he's literally a perfect pillow, plus the sound of him breathing while he rubs your back is-

momo.exe has stopped working

HE PLAYS BOTH COMPUTER AND CONSOLE EQUALLY

he uses the mic constantly and is kinda loud- but you dont hate it

he laughs a lot, and gets some game rage but its pretty controlle, he just gets butthurt sometimes :/

when you walk into his room he is getting so into it like he doesnt even notice even notice you come in

he only notices your presence when when you put your hand on his shoulder- he literally jumps

when he plays console he's on his bed, just laying there chillin so when you walk in and say hi he is sooo happy youre there w him omg

he just loves you presence

i imagine you climbing into bed w him and he continues to play his game although he loves it when you touch him (not to sound sexual at all he genuienly loves your touch)

and you up to his side- he wraps an arm around you, telling you how he missed you how mych he loves you (ksadksjhaksd)

when you fall asleep he turns the volume down and probably tones down his voice, although sometimes he jolts bc of some kind of mess up

but he manages to keep you asleep on him until he gets tired too- turning everything off and just wrapping you in arms (he'd prolly end up on your chest ngl)

on the computer when he plays you hesitate o cuddle ONLY bc od how much he moves, like you arent gonna be there comfortable for a while but eventually he calms down

he just gets nervous- his heart starts to beat rapidly and his leg bounces (same kaskh) espECIALLY when you straddle him oml he BREAKS

but he eventually calms down so its more comfy

when you fall asleep he will constantly press kisses on your head omggg

so soft kasdjhksajf pls-

i feel like he plays longer when hes on the computer so he would prlly still be on there when you wake up- looking absolutely dead insode aksjdshadl but you convince him to go to bed, bribing him with a 'i'll go too'

hes literally whipped for you :)

~.~.~.~

hope yall enjoyed a part 2-

taglist: @combat-wombatus @toosharkinternet @alpha3113 @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @zerohawks @hitosushi @katsuhera (sry my tags are being weird)

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sweetmotherof · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu Fics: The Classics™️ (pt 2)

PART 1

I already thought of more, and I didn’t want my first part to be super long, so here is a part 2!! I’ll probably make another couple of parts because I know I missed some. So again, please comment if you have any recommendations for me to add, it’s highly appreciated. Also, just some housekeeping, please mind the tags and go give the authors some love and support!! I hope you guys enjoy!! (My summaries are super bad for this one so just look at the summaries for the work or ask ahah id be happy to elaborate)

*contains nsfw fics, so please read the tags*

⭑=my faves

TSUKKIYAMA

~quick deanpendragon spam (they are the mastermind of tsukkiyama fics read all of their stuff pls)~

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon

M, 74.4k words

This is the classiccccc slowburn, childhood friends to lovers, slowburn through high school fic. With an amazing plot, beautiful writing, and stunning characterization, if you like Tsukkiyama at all, you should literally just read it. It’s just....perfect.

the certain things we lack by deanpendragon⭑

M, 89.6k words

AHHHHHHHH STOP DON’T TALK TO ME IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS. no no no it’s so good like should be published good. It’s Kei-centric, and him and Yamaguchi are so <333 ugh i can’t stop. High school au, canon compliant, getting together yeah yeah yeah but the writing is.....i’m speechless it’s so good. Something about it connected with my soul and the writing, i can’t stop the writing is so good. If you like to read, like you just appreciate the art of literature, read this read this read this.

blue summer sky by deanpendragon⭑

T, 32k words

Deanpendragon, take all of my money. You deserve it after this one because, oh, oh MY GOD it’s so good. Yamaguchi working in a pet store. Tsukishima working in a music store. Right next to each other. STOP READ IT NOW YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. It’s Yamaguchi’s POV and his like stream of thoughts is SO relatable oh my god. It’s too good. This is hands down one of my fave fics so,,,,, u should read it. Also, it’s a series so, thank you for that one.

~~~~

Stoplights by 5yenwish(iamacamera)

E, 48.6k words

Something about Tsukkiyama authors, I would literally ask the president to get you ppl published because JESUS we do not deserve these works for free. I mean, this is just Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, and Karasuno being VULGAR and hilarious, and it’s like,,,,you have to have a certain type of humor to enjoy this. If you don’t like sex jokes AVOID this fic, but I loved this SO MUCH. The writing, ughhhhhh the writing is horrifyingly good. I kinda just really want to pay this author money because you made my life smmm better. On Hiatus tho,, probs forever so <//3 STILL READ IT

MATSUHANA

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia⭑

E, 91.5k words, cw: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, mental health issues that come with that

SAD BOY HOURS ughhh. This fic is so angsty and hurt so bad to read,,,,,,but so,,,,goood. Of course it’s depressing, it’s Hanamaki, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi watching Matsukawa be in an emotionally abusive relationship, all the while Hanamaki is in love with him,,,, eyeroll it’s very hard to watch. But, the writing is amazing, the plot is painful but good, so if you’re considering, you definitely should read.

rated m for by orphan_account

T, 10.6k words

Voice acting au. The most beautiful voice acting au ever. I love Matsukawa and I love Hanamaki, and you should definitely read this because it’s so funny. The writing is so good, the plot is so funny, and I love to laugh my ass off and this fic is funny lol. They act in a BL even though they hate each other. PLS READ IT AHAHHAH.

plus one by orphan_account

G, 6.1k words

This is the cutest lil getting together fic that so adorably fluffy it hurts. If you want to come down from, oh let’s say boiled frogs ahahhaha plug (look above lol), this fic will literally rot your insides with how cute it is. It’s quick, easy, and a fun time at a wedding, so if you just want some matsuhana for bedtime or something like that (?? what am i saying lol) then I definitely recomeend this one.

DAISUGA

Open Tab by Mooifyourecows⭑

E, 541.5k words, cw: anxiety, breakdowns (not that bad, but some parts made me feel a bit on edge so I thought I’d let u all know)

The longest fic I’ve read, and worth every second. I BINGED this mf, like in a couple of days lol and it’s so good. Artist Suga, bartender Daichi, gay panic and basically all of the other main haikyuu characters lol,,,,, read it if that sounds interesting. I think this is probably the staple Haikyuu longfic, so you should definitely check it out at one point or another. Also, it’s SO funny and the writing is rlly good. Oh, and it’s a SLOW BURNNN.

bell, book, and candle by skittidyne

M, 762.9k words, cw: blood, swearing, violence, minor body horror, death, anxiety/anxiety attacks/panic attack (part of the author’s warning)

I’ve seen so many people recommend this one, so I thought I’d include it in this recommendation, even though it’s focused around a lot of the ships, not just daisuga. It’s a supernatural hunter fic, and even just the summary is super captivating and interesting. If you like fantasy, mythology, or anything of the demons and magic sort, you should definitely check this one out. There is also some ~~magical~~ romance.

Cardboard Castles by valiantarmor

M, 18k words, cw: homophobia, mental strain that comes with homelessness

For the sake of your guys’ brains, I included this shorter fic that you could definitely complete in a short amount of time. Basically, this is about coffee barista Daichi, and how he meets Suga, who is secretly homeless. And romance blooms, of course. I definitely recommend this one if you want a short, kind of angsty, but happy ending read.

KYOUHABA

Police Dog by surveycorpsjean⭑

E, 34.9k words

This fic is so so sooo good. I usually stray away from like shifter, werewolf type fics, but this one handles the trope so so so well. I love the kyouhaba dynamic and this fic exemplifies it without making it too cliche. The premise of the fic is Kyoutani is a dog shifter and Yahaba is a police officer. I really had a great time reading this and I definitely think that you should check it out ahhah.

Close to the Chest by darkmagicalgirl

T, 61.1k words, cw: HOMOPHOBIA LIKE BAD (not violent but very internalized and prevalent)

Yahaba and his self-acceptance journey,,,,ughhhh im crying. This fic is vvvery emotional and filled with angsty self-hatred that makes me :(((. but BUT its worth it because watching him grow :’) and find love in Kyoutani. it’s very warm and happy at the end. If you want a CLASSIC coming of age set in high school and very gay so <33 pls check it out. The plot and writing are really well done and it is a work of art srsly.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fic recs #haikyuu fanfiction #hq #hq fanfic #tsukkiyama #tsukiyama #matsuhana #daisuga #kyouhaba #tsukishima #yamaguchi #matsukawa

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sadlynotthevoid · 8 months ago

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When you say "Alver knows his family is gonna have issues w him so he's extra relieved to have connections with Cale", all I can think is "And they were roommates".

But, yes, ogalbecale pretty please. This is my fav og!Cale ship. They're soulmates. They're so similar, yet so different. Sunny guy who pretends to be grumpy x calculative cinic guy who pretends to be sunny. (It's a pity they don't know each other in canon ToT)

That's exactly how I imagined it!!! He's so smart and actually a very capable and sensible person, they just don't know that. So, when he hears about the situation (and prioritizises it over his trash act bc who knows if he will still need it, right?), he totally goes for the key info first.

Btw, is curious that you put Cale trying out earth fashion styles there, because Miracle Nikki (and Love Nikki too) is a dress up game. The arc has some connection with stylists' designs that are strongly fueled with emotions (or something like that, I only played a few days before having to desinstall it because it didn't work well in my tablet (my phone is broken, shush)), so I guess there wouldn't be only earth fashion clothes there, but also Miraland weird mix of flavor of clothes. So, ogCale in ancient asian clothes! OgCale with beautiful hairpins!! OgCale with a pirate hat! (I just want to see him dresssed like a pirate, singing and dancing pirate songs

And also ogCale with fae-like clothes that are even more fantasy-styled than his own previous world's clothes! Coats that look like a starry sky, shirts that have both: embroidery and chains. Boots with gems in them and thigh-high boots that still look cool. Even a suit that looks like the male version of the star sea dress (because he would look great in deep violet with sparkles and golden ornamental stars). The star sea dress itself! Because he would look amazing on it too.

Although, Alberu would be a mess. Because shoulders + legs + fancy elegance= disaster gay Alberu.

In other note, I love how we all agreed that og!Cale is some kind of hella smart guy with hardworking-genius tendencies in Rock Lee levels. A terrifying capable guy that learns things like some people prepare dishes: as it was a matter of just seriously following steps.

He remembers me of that scene of bnha when they're showing their rooms and Todoroki somehow changed it all too a traditional japanese style in less than a day through effort only. Am I saying that ogCale is Todoroki family coded? Yes, I am.

About the digitalized money card idea, that sounds great actually. Look how the turns tables! Who is the most powerful family now? Not any of the other nobles. And specially not Venion.

I also love the Lily-Cale bonding (speaking of which, they dressed as pirates, singing Bones by Sail North together)! I love the og Henituse siblings bonding in general, but I specially love the idea of this two getting close. When you think about it, Lily was born in a difficult moment of Cale's life. So, I like to think that seeing his newborn baby sister gave him some light to his life.

(Really, once I had a dream where Cale's last tutor was a crazy teacher who liked to get him through dangerous "tests" like a hamster in a labyrinth. And just went through it because he actually wasn't hurting anyone other than him, which he could avoid if he get the right answers fast. But then he decided to play "guess the antidote" after poisoning Cale's tea AND Violan's food, who was pregnant with Lily at that time. So Cale had to run around to give her the antidote and get a new one for himself. Then proceeded to make his tutor "quit" and somehow got a group of researcher erudites to lock him in their tower. At the end of the dream, Cale snuck into Lily's room to greet his new sister and I literally felt how happy he felt. Srsly, I woke up at that moment out of the pain in my chest).

Ngl, the Ark of Miracle Nikki sounds like the perfect way to get characters transmigrate from a world to other.

I mean, imagine most people from TBOAH getting suddenly teleported into a massive (techno? magic? fashion inspiration fueled?) flying ship, which can travel through the space-time, because "your world is doomed because of an asshole. We're so sorry. Please feel free to use the facilities and rest until we arrive to your new home".

Besides, I would really like to have og!Cale befriend Aeon and Marina. They would get along, specially having in count that "new world" means their nobility is nothing. He wouldn't need to hide himself and they aren't from his world, so no precoinceived ideas.

Besides, Marina is a kid. Og!Cale would look at this cheerful lively kid and wouldn't be able to hold back his big brother instincts. "She's a lot like Lily when she was a toddler", he probably would think. (Because, yes, I headcanon that og!Cale spent a lot of time with Lily when no one was around and she was still "too young to remember". Lily isn't sure whether she dreamed it all or not)

And imagine Aeon introducing modern music to og!Cale. Og!Cale, who may had learned music when he was a kid (classic noble kid activity), liking many of these various styles of music, all so different from the elegant ones the noble likes and the vivid ones he heard at the streets and bars. Then Marina telling him that Aeon also writes songs, but warning him not to listen them in a way too serious tone (she's such a gremlin).

And between all that you still have the tboah characters aclimatizing to the idea of a new world, fixing relationships, and planning what to do now that their status mean shit (poor royal family. Ha.)

Just a transmigration story where the characters have time to talk with their family and adjust before being send to other world.

Maybe the world they're going to is the Soo's Earth. One that is on its way to recovery, but has way less population than before.

#tcf #og cale henituse #og albecale #i love lily and ogcale so much #i love bassen too #but those two are really special to me #miracle nikki ark #miracle nikki x lcf crossover #alberu crossman #alver crossman

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blackhakumen · 3 years ago

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Mini Fanfic #980: Niijima Sisters' Bonding Time (Persona 5)

1:46 p.m. In the Streets of Shiyuba.........

Sae: (Sighs Heavily as She Walk Next to Her Little Sister) I never thought I would ever be happier to not go back to that office for a few days....

Makoto: Work starting to overwhelm you again, sis?

Sae: Unfortunately. Annoying clients, mountain stacks of paperwork....And don't even get me started on all the convoluted cases I've worked on so far this month! (Places her Hand on her Forehead) It's a miracle I never ripped out my own hair yet....

Makoto: You know, I've always wondered what you would look like with short hair.

Sae: (Shrugs) Eh. I'll probably look average. But enough about my tedious work life, let's focus on something more important and special for today.

Makoto: The celebration of my birth and my first step into womanhood?~ (Smiles Brightly)

Sae: I was...gonna say the day we finally spend quality time together, but yeah. That too. Still....(Gives Makoto an Unsure Look on her Face) are you sure you wanna start off with a sparring match with me?

Makoto: (Happily Nodded) Yeah. It's been a while since we've done it after all. And who knows? (Starts Smiling Confidently) Maybe this will be the day where I actually beat you this time-

Three Rounds of Sparring Matches Later......

Makoto gets judo flipped and yeeted into the floor by her own big sister with a yelp.

'THUD'

Makoto: ('Groans in Pain and Defeat') Damnit......

Sae: (Kneels Down With One Knee While Looking Down at Makoto with a Bit of a Smug Look on her Face) Another round goes to yours truly, little sister~

Makoto: It has been nearly a decade since we've last sparred....(Raises her Habds up in Frustration) How the hell are you still this STRONG!?

Sae: Just because I've spent the entirely of my adulthood as a prosecutor, doesn't mean abandoned my training completely. In fact, usually come here to hone my skills during lunch breaks.

Makoto: (Groans Again While Rolling her Eyes) And you wonder why I kept pestering you to make friends in the office.

Sae: Hey, excuse me for not having much of a connection with my peers. And besides, I have friends! S-Sure most of them are....from your friends group and...one of them is a talking bear and a bird, b-b-but that counts for something, right!?

Makoto: (Sighs as She Gets Herself Up) I suppose it does...(Smiles a Little) I'm glad you're getting along with then.

Sae: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) Me too. So I believe next in our schedule is to go shopping?

Makoto: Yep. Ooh! Could we go to the Karaoke Bar downtown after that?

Sae: Not much of a singer myself, but sure why not-

As her phone suddenly begins to buzz inside her pants pocket, Sae takes it out and reads the message that was sent to her by Futuba.

Futuba: If u guys planning on going to a Karaoke Bar later on today, DO NOT, under ANY circumstances, let Makoto sing Baka Mitai!!!

Futuba: Srsly. Ur Eyes will thank me later.

Futuba: Tell ur sis happy birthday btw!~ Luv u! Byyyyyye!~（*＾3＾)/～♡

Sae raises an eyebrow in confusion before turning back to Makoto.

Sae: Heyyyy, Makoto? Quick question: What kind of song is... (Looks Back at her Phone For a Brief Second Before Looking Back Up to Makoto) Baka Mitai again?

Makoto: (Eyes Immediately Glows Up in Excitement) Only the best song that ever been composed in Yakuza 0!~ (Places her Hand onto her Chest) And one of my personal favorites, of course. I can sing for you at the bar later on if you like. (Starts Winking at Sae in a Bit of a Cute, Pleading Manner)

Sae: Uhh....yeah, sure. (Maybe Futuba's blowing this out of porption. I mean, really, how bad could this one, harmless song possibly-)

Few Hours Later at the Karaoke Bar.....

Makoto: Dame da ne......Dame yo..... Dame na no yo~ Anta ga.....Suki de Sukisugite~ (Continues Singing)

Sae: (Covers her Face While Crying her Eyes Out and Reluctantly Singing Along) Osake Demo........Why.......('Sniff') Why....('Sniff') WHY THE HELL DIDN'T ANYONE TELL THIS WAS A GODDAMN TEAR JERKER SOONER!? (Continues Crying Out Loudly)

'Harmonica Solo'

Sae: THE HARMONICAS!? ('Sniff') REALLY!?

Later that Night, Back at the Niijma Apartment.....

TV Screen: You Got the Star!!

Makoto: ('Sighs in a Bit of Relief') There. It's all mine now.

Sae: (Raises an Eyebrow at the Screen in Front of Her and Makoto) You chose to steal a star from Waluigi instead?

Makoto: (Shrugs) He doesn't seem to be that much of threat compared to the rest of us. Plus, I'm pretty sure you would find some way to get me back if I try stealing from you.

Sae: (Turns to Makoto With a Small Glare) Oh come on. I would never do that to you.

Makoto (Glares Back at Sae) Yes you would. In fact, you're one of the most conniving, prettiest person to play Mario Party with besides Pitto-san.

Sae: (Starts Rolling her Eyes) Honestly, Makoto....How can I be all those things in one?

Makoto: Well, for starters, when we were younger, playing Mario Party 3, I've obtained Koppa Kard from a Hidden Block. A turn or two later, after you got an item of your own, all you ever told me was "Thank you" . I ask you THREE. SEPARATE TIMES. Why the "Thank You" and all you ever did after that was making widest smile I've ever seen of you yet. And-

Sae: That's when I used to the Plumber Chest to take the card away from you. ('Sighs Fondly') Ah yes. Those were the glory days~

Makoto: For YOU maybe! Oh and let's not forget the time you started that snowballing mini game knowing FULL WELL I was still reading the instructions!

Sae: (Sighs While Facepalming Herself) How many times do I have to apologize to you for that?.....I seriously thought you knew how to play.

Makoto: And I still don't believe you! Ooh! And how can I EVER forget the time that you used that same Plunder Chest to STEAL my hard earned Magic Lamp at the second to last turn!!!?

Sae: Hey, I saw the opportunity in front of me and seized it. I'm pretty sure you would've done the same if you were in my shoes.

Makoto: Yeah, but......(Points at Sae) Y-You're still a cheat!

Sae: (Raises an Eyebrow Once More) You mean "cheater", genius?

Makoto: I KNOW WHAT I SAID! Just.....(Takes a Deep Breath) For once, don't try to screw me over this tims?....PLEASE.

Sae: (Sighs While Rolling her Eyes Again) I won't screw you over this time, Makoto. Just don't do the same to me and you'll have my word. (Sticks Kne Hand Out For Shake) Agreed?

Makoto: (Tries her Hardest Not to Cave In Before Sighing in Defeat While Crossing her Arms and Rolling her Own Eyes) Fiiiine. I'll take your word for it. (Shakes Sae's Hand) Don't make me regret this.

Sae: You worry too much, little sister.(Crosses her Fingers Behind her Back) You have my undying word in all of this.

Makoto: (Squints her Eyes at her Sister Suspiciously) Mmm...hmm.

Few Hours Later.......

TV Screen: Now dig on this~ (Fingers Snapping)

Sae: (Scoffs While Sitting Next to Makoto on the Sofa) Look at him.....Trying to make his girlfriend jealous by dancing with another girl in front of her. In her own live performance nonetheless.....

Makoto: I know, right?....('Yawn') Who does that jerk......('Yaaaawn') think he is anyways? I hate him.

Sae: (Turns to her Yawning Little Sister) Feeling drowsy there already, kiddo?

Makoto: I dunno- (Starts Yawning a Little More Loudly While Stretching her Arms) Maybe? (Scratches her Back) What time is it?

Sae: (Picks her Phone Up From the Coffee Table, Turns it On, and Sees the Time on the Screen) Huh. It's past midnight already. Really went all out today, haven't we?

Makoto: Yeah. We.....('Yawn') Definitely.....did....(Slowly Lays her Head onto Sae's Lap)

Sae: (Giggles Softly) And what do you think YOU'RE doing, young lady?

Makoto: Taking a nap on your lap.... Not as soft and squishy as my Ren-Ren's, but....('Yawn') I guess it will do for now......

Sae: (Sighs While Rolling her Eyes Yet Again) Honestly.....When are you two going to get married already?

Makoto: Sooooooon......Just.....be more patient, will ya!?

Sae: (Giggles Softly) I'll try, but....(Gives Makoto a Playful Smirk on her Face) You might wanna try telling your friends the same~

Makoto: ('Sighs Heavily') Believe me, we tried.....And they STILL kept pestering us about it.....('Yawn') I guess that's the price we pay for being a couple......

Sae: Seems like it. But you still love each other, right?

Makoto: Definitely....(Snuggles onto Sae's Lap) I'll always love my sweet Ren-Rem~

Sae: (Giggles Some More) Hey! Easy on the snuggling there, Makoto. I'm still here your sister.

Makoto: I knooow.....I'm just....Really glad I get to spent time with you today, you know? You're so.... cool......

Sae: (Heart Begins to Melt in Genuine Happiness) Thanks. But if I'm being completely honest here....(Looks Down at Makoto) I think you're truly the most coolest out of the two of us. Makoto?

Makoto: (Already Fallen Asleep) Zzzzzzzzzz..........

Sae: (Sighs Once More Before Smiling Softly at her Sleeping Sister) Already out for the count. (Kiss the Top of Makoto's Head) Sweet dreams, little sister. Happy Birthday. (Looks Back Up at the TV, Mute it, and Starts Changing Channels)

Happy (Late) Birthday Queen!!

@keyenuta

@ma-lemons

@princekirijo

@cyber-wildcat

@caleb13frede

@theweebmaster31

@26shann

#persona 5 #makoto nijima #sae niijima #futuba sakura #dark pit (mentioned)#sister bonding #sweet family moment #humor #lots and lots of fluff here #birthday celebration #karaoke night #mario party #the runaway guys reference #shumako (mentioned)

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zahursreign · 3 years ago

Text

my biggest gripes for the whole movie:

- are you srsly telling me u nerfed steve for the sake of a joke??? u ACTUALLY made us sit here and watch steve impregnate himself by accident through the actual most sfw way physically possible AND WE HAD TO SIT THERE AND WATCH HIM JUST? DO THAT? i was so excited to have steve screentime only for that to be thrown out the window bc every time i saw steve i had to actually look away bc it was so uncomfortable to watch

- some of these character deaths were so quick and painful, it felt like shock factor (nomura and half point for strickler bc it just happened so fast but not as fast as nomura’s) - and not to mention! these were pointless deaths! at least toby’s WASN’T pointless!

- rlly ur gonna patch up this gaping hole in the chest with a bandaid time travel fix-it?? without giving ANY rules of how the time stone worked, what it can do, what it can’t do, if jim can control where he lands in the timeline, if he can use it multiple times, etc?? ur gonna brush over ALL that trauma just like that?? ok cool cool cool

- ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT OLD COOT MERLIN JUST FREAKING PICKS WHOEVER TAKES THE AMULET NEXT? WHY WAS IT TOBY? IF IT’S MEANT TO BE, THEN THE AMULET WOULD HAVE FOUND ITS WAY TO JIM ANYWAY , THATS JUST?!?!??? wow i ACTUALLY hated that

not the fact that it was toby, bc i think thats an interesting dynamic switch, but just the fact that its NOT jim like wtf, it’s shoved into our head so much that it was destiny that jim was the trollhunter + “once a trollhunter, always a trollhunter” + “the trollhunter will know what to do” , like? will jim remain the trollhunter anyway? or is he not anymore?? like what??? stop that

alright now that THATS out of the way, time for some positives!!

-DUDE THE GRAPHICS???? WERE SO GOOD???? OH MY GOD?????? THE GLOWUPPPPPP GIRL HELP 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-the trollhunter armor transformation omg with his THEME? HELLO?

-ON THAT NOTE, THE OST PLS SO GOOD??!!!!

-jim’s shots at bellroc like oh my god “you get used to it” KING SLAY

-the interrogation scene omg

-NARI

-DOUXIE

-all the expressions and animation, i love that theyre not afraid to use the marks by the nose down to the mouths? i forgot the word/dont know what its called but omg

-the voice acting and the perfect delivery of lines omgggmjdfnmfkghwbdjsg

-i LOVED seeing all the characters interact with all their dynamics and stuff omggg

there were a lot of positives for this movie and my brain is kind of on the verge of perishing but thats my 2 cents on everything that i had to get out there thank u for reading good day <3

#trollhunters #trollhunters rise of the titans #trollhunters spoilers #tales of arcadia #tales of arcadia spoilers #rott spoilers #swann posts

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years ago

Note

Hello darling! Currently obsessed with your writing! Srsly best seller list is shaking. Could I possibly request a peter Parker x reader where she falls asleep on peter while he’s doing homework at his desk and may walks in and it’s just cute and fluffy? Idk run with it. Thank you for existing!!💕

thank you!!

A Soft Place to Land

Pairing: Best Friend Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Aunt May finds you and Peter in a compromising position

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“PP.” You cut off your own sentence with a yawn. “Do you have your physics notebook?”

Peter swiveled in his chair and looked at you. You were sprawled out on his bed, lying on your tummy with your laptop in front of you, eyes dropping from exhaustion. Peters own textbooks and papers were strewn across the bed, bordering your body like an outline of chalk. Peter couldn’t help but smile at the sight, knowing his sheets would smell your perfume once you went home.

“I do.” Peter confirmed. “Do you need it?”

“Would you mind if I copied your notes? Mr. Brighton writes too fast and I missed the section on force.” You said slowly, signaling to Peter that you were beyond tired.

“No problem.” Peter smiled kindly and tossed his notebook at you. You failed to catch it and were hit in the face at full speed, letting out a surprised “oof.” Peter winced at his mistake.

“Oops.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You laughed tiredly. “Woke me up a little.” You yawned again, this time turning away and disguising it into your shoulder so Peter wouldn’t see.

“Y/n, you should take a nap.” Peter suggested out of concern for you and your wellbeing, the only thing he was ever really concerned with. “I’ll move my stuff to the desk. You can sleep in my bed.”

Peters choice of words sent him back to another moment in time.

Peter saw you through you window and collapsed onto your fire escape. You were working diligently at your desk, and Peter hated the idea of taking you away from your work, but he needed you. Only you. Too weak to raise his arm, he hit his forehead against your window until it caught your attention.

“PP?” You asked in a hushed voice as you rushed to your window and opened it as quickly as you could. “How did you get up here? Did you climb the fire escape?”

“Not exactly.” Peter said with a pained smile as you helped him inside.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” You asked, sounding like a parent as you sat Peter down on your bed. Peter gingerly sat down, wincing with every movement. He felt your heart rate pick up and he berated himself for worrying you.

“I climbed next to the fire escape.” Peter said sluggishly.

“On the wall?” You laughed, not believing him. You finally noticed how badly he was beaten. In the soft glow of your desk lamp, you could see bruises on Peters knuckles and under his eyes. He was sweaty and dirty, and definitely did not come from decathlon practice like he said he did. “What happened?” You asked calmly.

“I found the guy who killed Uncle Ben.” Peter have you a half hearted smile. It’d been three months since Peters uncle was shot right in front of him. Peter didn’t speak about it. He didn’t mention his name, or what happened. His casual drop of his deceased uncles name made You filly realize the extent of the situation. Peter was hurt, badly, and he had come to you. This wasn’t the time for questions. This was the time to help Peter.

“Okay.” You said calmly, looking into Peters tired eyes and giving him a comforting look. You sat down on the bed and placed a hand in his knee. “You found the guy who killed uncle Ben.” You repeated, so he knew you heard him.

“But he also found me.” Peter mumbled before collapsing forward into your arms. He was in and out of consciousness as you caught him and gently laid him on your bed, resting him against the headboard.

“Stay there.” You commanded, though he physically couldn’t disobey you. He couldn’t move. He let his aching body rest against your soft sheets, knowing they’d smell like his cologne when he went home. Peter opened one eye, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and watched you. You were in sleep shorts and an oversized decathlon t-shirt, looking as beautiful as ever. You paced back and forth around, collecting various things to patch Peter up. Your makeup free face was full of concern, which made Peters heart ache. Coincidentally, it was the only part of him not currently aching. He didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t your responsibility. But he had no where else to go.

“Okay.” You said with medical supplies stacked up to your chin. “This is all I got.”

Peter wanted to tell you that it was more than enough, but he only had the strength for a weak, “Thank you.”

“Shh. Don’t waste your energy.” You hushed up as you propped him up against your headboard again, since he had begun to slouch. He wanted to take some of the work off of you, but could only be moved around like a rag doll. He gave you a grateful smile. In your eyes, it was enough.

“I’m gonna have to…um.” Your eyes darted down to his chest. He was wearing a huge, old fashioned looking brown jacket over some light blue sweat pants and red water shoes. Had he been in better condition, you would’ve questioned his outfit. Peter looked into your eyes and gave you a tired nod. You didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. He looked almost fearful, and a little hesitant. You unbuttoned his large jacket and slid it off his shoulders. You folded it neatly, noticing the initials “BFP” on the tag. So it was Bens, you thought. He was running around the city, in the dead of night, getting beat up in Bens jacket. You gave Peter a sorrowful look before your eyes trailed down to what was under the jacket. He wore a red hoodie with a spider drawn on it in sharpie. The sleeves were cut out and blue sleeves to match his sweatpants were poorly sewn in.

“Y/n-“ Peter croaked.

“I understand.” You cut him off. You looked him in the eyes and gave him a gentle smile. Your eyes told him that you were telling the truth. “You don’t have to explain anything to me until you’re ready. All that matters to me is getting you patched up, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter said weakly, wishing he could say more. He had so much he wanted to tell you. So much.

“I’m gonna have to unzip it now.” You warned him. “Is that okay?”

Peter gave you another nod. Not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward, you quickly unzipped the hoodie and slid it off his shoulders. Peters normally scrawny body was replaced with a six pack of abs. You gulped and felt your face heat up, hoping he couldn’t tell.

He could.

A deep gash, likely from a knife, was in his lower abdomen. He had other miscellaneous cuts and bruises covering his body. He was in bad shape, worse than you thought, but nothing you couldn’t fix. Your eyes slowly trailed up his body and met his eyes. Peter was staring at you, desperate to read your reaction.

“Are you scared?” He whispered. You laughed lightly and shook your head.

“Of you, PP? You wish.” You teased. You dampened a Cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide and gently dabbed it on the gash. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, and almost looked like it was healing in its own. You then applied some Neosporin and one by one, adhered a pink Hello Kitty band aid to the cut until it was covered. Peter noticed your choice of band aids and laughed, sending an ache through his chest.

“Cute.” He smiled.

“I couldn’t find the dinosaur ones.” You genuinely apologized, making Peters heart grow fonder for you.

“It’s okay.” Peter said, using all that was left if his strength to brush stray hair away from your face. You looked at him as he did it, and leaned into his hand. Peter smiled, grateful that through it all, he was still PP to you, the dumb nickname you gave him when you were kids when you couldn’t pronounce “Peter.”

“Should I be worried about you?” You whispered, your fingertips brushing his hand before closing you hand around his wrist, keeping his palm on your cheek.

“If I say no, will you be worried anyway?” Peter asked, feeling a little strength return.

“I’ll always worry about you, PP.” You said sincerely.

“I promise, I’ll explain it all one day.” Peter swore. You seemed content with his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You told him as you tilted his chin towards your face. Peter froze, thinking you were going to kiss him. Instead, you pulled out a Cotten swab and gently dabbed it on the cut on Peters lip. A plus side to his powers, hydrogen peroxide didn’t sting anymore. After cleaning the cut, you leaned in to blow on it. Your puckered lips were almost touching Peters. Peter gulped and did his best to keep his pulse from getting to crazy. You then dabbed some Neosporin on his lip and got to work on the rest of his cuts.

Peter fell asleep in the middle of you playing nurse. When he woke up, he was in your biggest shirt, and a loose pair of sweatpants he’d seen your brother wearing before. He was fully under your covers now, and resting comfortably against your pillow. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you sitting at your desk.

“Y/n?” He called out, making you turn around.

“Yes, PP?” You said.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter admitted. His mouth moved faster than his brain. He didn’t think it through. He just told you.

“No.” You said sarcastically, and shot him a smile. Peter felt relived at your reaction.

“I feel better now. I can head home.” He groaned, and painfully tried to sit up. You rushed to his side and tried to get him to lie down again.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You laughed at his absurdity. “I texted May from your phone and said you were sleeping at Ned’s.”

“But I’m not.” Peter pointed out.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re sleeping here.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. That’s too much to ask.” Peter protested your hospitality.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” You assured Peter. “And of course I do. You’re my best friend. And May can’t see you like this. You’re gonna stay here tonight.” You told him, absentmindedly tucking him in. Peter laughed at you slipping into motherly behavior. “You can sleep in my bed.”

“I can’t.” You said, breaking Peter away from the memory. “I have to finish this essay.”

“What you have to do is get some sleep.” Peter insisted, throwing a paper ball at you when he noticed you beginning to doze off. “How many hours did you get last night?”

“Dunno.” You said sleepily, resting your tired head on your hand. “One-teen.”

“One-teen?” Peter asked in concern.

“Mhm.” You nodded, head drooping further and further down until your arm slipped out from under you and you face planted into your textbook. “Maybe it was twelve-ty.”

“Y/n, you’re making me worried.” Peter chewed his bottom lip.

“The static on the TV makes you worried.” You pointed out.

“Because it makes a scary sound.” Peter defended. “Don’t change the subject. You need to get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak.” You yawned.

“That can’t be true, because you’re the strongest person I know.” Peter quipped.

“Even stronger than that guy you fought who was made of sand?” You asked with hooded eyes.

“Yes, because he was made of sand.” Peter deadpanned.

“Mmm.” You laughed sleepily. “Sand. Yummy.”

“Okay, now I know you’re exhausted if you think sand is yummy.” Peter said, amazed that you were still in denial.

“What did you say, honey?” You murmured.

“No, not honey.” Peter laughed, cheeks hearing up at the accidental pet name. “I said yummy.”

“What’s funny?” You asked, now purposely misunderstanding him.

“Oh my goodness.” Peter laughed again. “Have you slept at all this week?”

“I have no time.” You sighed, eyes reluctantly going back to your essay.

“I can finish this essay for you.” Peter offered.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You informed him.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” Peter repeated your words from that night, wondering if you recalled that memory too.

“No, PP. You have your own work you need to do.” You insisted.

“My stuff isn’t due until next week.” Peter reminded you. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. Just this once.”

You seemed to consider his offer. “I won’t let you do my actual essay, because that’s cheating, but I’ll allow you to help me.”

“Fine by me.” Peter shrugged.

“Okay.” You gave in and went over to where he was sitting at his desk. “Scoot.”

Peter moved over in his swivel chair and let you share the seat with him. You rested your back against the arm rest and laid your legs on top of his before handing him your laptop. “I have my thesis statement and everything else, but I have no idea if it’s even coherent. It feels a little messy.”

“Here’s what I do.” Peter began to explain how he structured his essays. About halfway though his explanation, he felt pressure on his shoulder. You had rested your head there and were listening to him with a content smile.

“Keep going. I’m listening.” You assured him, letting out another yawn after. Peter kept going and soon picked up on your breathing slowing down. You stretched a little, your nose brushing his jawline and ended up even deeper in the crook of his neck. You began to lazily play with the buttons on his button down.

“Alright.” Peter said softly, not trusting his voice to be steady. “Then, I draw back to my thesis and make a connection. It should be a very obvious connection so that the person reading it-“ Peter stopped when he heard the soft whistle of your breath. He carefully adjusted himself and wrapped an arm around you, just so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep, or at least that’s what he told himself. He also didn’t want you to slip and fall off the chair. You ended up snuggling deeper into his side and throwing an arm around his waist. Peter smiled to himself and pulled your laptop in front of him. He revised your work and nodded in approval. You didn’t have much left, just needing proofreading. Peter took his time reading your essay, editing what needed to be fixed and making some corrections. He finished in about half an hour and emailed it to your teacher. He then picked up your planner and looked at what else you needed to get done. In your signature handwriting, was the following:

Write essay Copy(steal) PP’s physics notes Find quote for English project

Peter checked the time, and then your sleeping face. It was 11 now, and your curfew was 12. He could copy his notes into your notebook and find a quote in under an hour. He’d be damned if he couldn’t. And so, Peter took out your black marble notebook with the little Spider-Man stickers and began to copy his notes down. As he worked with his right hand, his left hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back. You let out soft noises in your sleep, that Peter found it hard not to fawn over. He got halfway through copying when he door opened.

“Are you guys-,” May said at full volume until Peter held a finger to his lips. A pretty harsh finger, one might add. May grimaced and nodded. “Are you guys alright? Need anything from me?” She said in a softer tone.

“We’re okay.” Peter whispered back. “I gotta get her home soon.”

“How long has she been out?” May asked.

“About an hour.” Peter replied.

“And how much sleep had she been getting?” May sighed, knowing you and your habits.

“None.” Peter sighed as well. “I don’t want to wake her so I’ll probably swing her back home, if that’s alright.”

“But that means you’ll have to swing back alone.” May reminded him. “I thought you hated swinging that late?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d rather get her home safely. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re a good boyfriend.” May smirked, already anticipated her nephews reaction. “Holding her while she sleeps and helping her with her work.”

“I’m not her boyfriend.” Peter said quickly, and a little too loudly, causing you to stir in your sleep and hug Peter a little tighter. “I’m her best friend, who’s a boy. Not her boyfriend. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” May squinted her eyes.

“Yes.” Peter stated. “She doesn’t think of me like that.”

“But you think of her like that.” May said, as more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.” Peter nodded, then shut his eyes tightly. “I mean, no. No. She’s my friend.”

“Right. Of course.” May said sweetly. “Girlfriend.” She added under her breath.

“What was that?” Peter snapped.

“Peter, this is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re growing. Your body is flourishing now. It’s okay if your Peter tingle tingles just for her.” May teased.

“Please stop saying “tingle” May.” Peter groaned.

“All I’m saying is, I fell in love with my best friend too once.” May held up her hands in defense.

“Oh yeah?” Peter said sarcastically. “Then what happened?”

“Then I became Mrs. Parker.” May smiled.

Peter fell silent, focusing only on your breathing as he absentmindedly twirled your hair around his finger.

“May?” He said softly.

“Yes, Peter?” May answered.

“What do I do if she doesn’t feel the same?” Peter wondered out loud. It was his biggest fear. Him, finding the courage to tell you how he feels, and you rejecting him. Saying something like “aw, PP, you know I love you but-“ and then some recycled rejection that would utterly devastate Peter as he nodded along with a smile. He couldn’t bear the thought.

“Do you know how she feels?” May asked, knowing a little more than Peter. She had an outsider perspective on your relationship. She saw all the stolen glances and lingering looks that you two didn’t catch.

“Yes.” Peter huffed. May tilted her head to the side.

“Did you ask?” She continued.

“No.” Peter said sheepishly, knowing the point his aunt was trying to make.

“Then you don’t know.” May told him.

“We’ve been best friends for years. She would’ve said something by now if she felt that way about me.” Peter defended.

“Have you said something?” May folded her arms.

“No.” Peter said harshly, before realizing what May was trying to say.

“Then why would you expect her to?” May delivered the final blow. Peter knew he had lost the argument.

“I don’t like it when you get all omnipotent on me.” Peter grumbled. He looked at your sleeping face and sighed. He wanted to tell you. He did. And he wanted more times like this. He’d hold you every night if he could.

“That’s what aunts are for.” May smiled in triumph. Peter was quiet again.

“May?” He said finally.

“Yes, Peter?” She asked, having a feeling where he was going with it.

“I feel that way.” He admitted, without taking his eyes off your notes. “About her.”

“I know you do, Peter.” May nodded in understanding. She could tell her nephew had feelings for you long before he knew it himself.

“What do I do?” Peter asked, looking up sadly at May.

“Talk to her. You’ll know where to go from there.” May advised.

“And if I don’t?” Peter asked.

“She’ll know.” May said with an all knowing smile. She blew Peter a goodnight kiss and shut the door quietly. You stirred at the sound and slowly took your head off Peters shoulder. He went back to his work and pretended he never stopped it as you stretched.

“What time is it, PP?” You asked through a yawn.

“Quarter after 11.” Peter answered you, speaking in a low tone so you didn’t get startled.

“I gotta get home soon.” You sighed and adjusted your position, never taking your legs off his lap. You stretched towards the sky, but wrapped your seams around Peters neck this time when you finished. He felt his ears burn at your half asleep action. You were always clingy when you were tired, and right now, you were exhausted.

“I’ll swing you back.” Peter offered, pretending to be fully invested on your notes and not on the way your breath tickled his neck.

“You don’t have to.” You told him as you rubbed your eyes.

“And let you walk home in the dark all alone? I don’t think so.” Peter sounded almost insulted, but still had his signature playful tone.

You laughed lightly and rested your head back on Peters shoulder. He didn’t complain. He’d been missing the warmth you created.

“May was right.” You said quietly through a sleepy smile. Peter was a good boyfriend, you thought.

“What was that?” Peter asked. He had heard, but didn’t know what you meant.

“Nothing. Just a dream I had.” You shrugged and sighed in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Oh.” Peter said, not sure what else to say.

“Do you ever have those dreams that make you wake up with crushes on people you didn’t think you’d have a crush on?” You asked him, feeling a little more awake. The nap had helped, though you’d never admit it to Peter.

“Yeah, I do. Is that what you had? Do you have a crush on a boy at school?” Peter asked, jealously seeping into him like water through a crack in a boat.

“Kind of.” You nodded. “I had a dream a boy confessed his feelings for me, but not to me.”

“Oh.” Peter said simply. “How do you feel now?”

“Disappointed.” You laughed sadly.

“You’re disappointed that the boy likes you?” Peter said, barely covering up the sadness in his voice. He knew he was the boy. You must’ve heard the conversation with May in your sleep and thought you dreamed it.

“No.” You shook your head with a sleepy smile. “I’m disappointed that it was only a dream.”

Peter as quiet for awhile, thinking about what May had told him. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.” Peter looked you in your tired eyes. He nervously drummed his fingers on your leg.

“I wasn’t dreaming, PP, was I?” You realized suddenly. You looked to Peter for answers, who had that same look in his eyes as he did that night. Fearful, and a little hesitant.

“I like you, okay?” Peter admitted, knowing he was backed into a corner. “I like you and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Because I’m supposed to be your best friend. I’m meant to be a soft place for you to land. I’m not supposed to be complicating your life and adding to your stress by developing feelings for you.” Peter said softly.

“This doesn’t complicate my life.” You said pointedly as you put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. “This only makes it better.”

“You like me?” Peter asked, wondering now if he was the one dreaming. “You like me, like me?”

“I do.” You smiled, your gaze dropping to his lips quickly before coming back up to meet his eyes. “Are you gonna make my dream come true, PP?”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #spider man: homecoming #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker x best friend!reader #best friend!peter parker x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #endgame rerelease #iron man #eddie brock #spiderman x y/n

7K notes · View notes

lovinga3characters · 4 years ago

Note

Whyyyy???? How???? Why????? How could you end just there?! Juza kissing prompt needs a continuation or my heart will burst. I'm fainting from your writings, srsly, too many feels but omg I love them!

You give me the highest of compliments by asking me for a sequel 🥰 Thank you very much! Juza’s a very precious boy, I hope you enjoy this EXTREMELY late fluff!

PART 1: here!

Juza 🍰

To say that things were significantly more awkward between him and you since the tent incident would be... very accurate but also an understatement.

It’s been a couple of days and Juza has managed to somehow successfully avoid you for the rest of the whole camping trip. He would’ve given himself a pat on the back if he hadn’t feel so guilty about it.

He’s nothing but a coward, he really should’ve apologized by now. However, Juza’s insecurities about his own feelings kept holding him back and it frustrated him beyond belief.

The two of you had only truly become friends recently, why did he have to ruin it? Why did he have to... kiss you?

The answer made his face blush into a bright shade of pink.

Roughly, he shook himself off and stood up, ground crunching underneath his feet. Juza figured he’d might as well make himself useful and gather some firewood for the food the others were going to roast later. He had promised the director that he would engage in all group activities, including a bonfire on the last night of the trip.

It was a crisp and clear day outside, perfect autumn weather. The purple-haired teen tried to busy his mind for a while to not think about what he was going to say to you. Hell, Juza even picked a fight on Banri, on purpose!

“Ugh, this is just freaking sad now.” Banri spoke to him. He made an exaggerated choking noise for emphasis.

“Shutdup, what’s sad?” Juza gritted his teeth.

“Your mopin’,” The other rolled his eyes. “It’s way obvious that it’s all about your friend, am I right?”

He stiffened at the mention of you, it was a barely noticeable jump, except, since his troupe leader had perfect senses, he noticed.

Shit.

“See? I’m right, they’re way more than a friend~” Banri smirked smugly and Juza was filled with the desire to knee him in the gut.

“We’re not- it’s not like that.” Was all he could reply, his tone of voice curt and to the point.

His rival only yawned and turned to walk away from him. “Look, man, I don’t really care. Just don’t make out in our tent.”

Juza‘s mouth gaped open and, half-yelling, he said, “It was only a kiss!”

Banri gave him a look of genuine surprise. “Wait, so you did... for real?”

Shit.

“‘M done talkin’ about this.” He muttered. He’d rather face the truth of the matter then spend another second with that tricky bastard.

As Juza heard the distant chuckles fade, he spotted you sitting down on a chair near where the bonfire would be in a few hours. Almost frighteningly quickly, he grabbed a chair and put it next to yours, sitting onto it so aggressively he nearly toppled over.

“Holy- oh! Juza-san, you startled me!” You exclaimed.

“Sorry.” He said. A short silence fell in between the two of you before he decided to break it. “I wanna talk to ya.”

“I see.” You nodded your head and faced him fully. You seemed way too calm upon being confronted, maybe you weren’t grossed out after all.

“Is your ankle okay?” Juza began.

“This? It’s healing fine, Omi-san just suggested I should sit for while.” You chuckled, wiggling your foot. “Thank you, by the way.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For- For patching me up.” You breathed out. You seemed fidgety, not that he had any room to talk...

“I told ya, it’s no problem.” He replied, almost smiling. Another moment of silence came between the two of you.

“Juza-san!” You suddenly exclaimed.

“Yeah?” He jumped in his seat, damn, he was really nervous today.

“Oh, sorry, big guy! I didn’t mean to be loud, ahaha...!” You coughed. “Listen, I know you want to talk about the... kiss.”

Juza braced himself, nodding in agreement. He actually leaned closer to better pay attention to your words. “... Yeah?”

You took a deep breath. “I- Juza-san- I don’t have those kinds of feelings for you...”

A tiny shot of pain raced through his chest and he bit his lip in frustration. Well, that was obvious since the beginning, and now Juza clearly messed up any chance-

“... yet.” You continued. You turned away, the tips of your ears coloring.

Juza blinked. “Yet?”

“Yet.”

“Um, what does that mean?” He moved just a bit closer.

You laughed nervously, tossing some fallen leaves into the air with your leg. “It means that I haven’t thought about that kind of thing with you... but I wouldn’t mind trying...?”

The cogs in Juza’s brain began to turn, maybe he should stop eating so much sugar because they felt kind of stuck together. After a couple of seconds, he couldn’t stop himself from making a noise of shock.

“Are you being serious?” His voice darkened considerably, his face intimidating (by accident).

“Mhm.” You said.

“Oh.”

“Mhmm.” You said, again.

“Cool.” Juza mumbled. “I mean- yeah- that’s great. I’d... be happy if you considered me like... that.”

You let out a strong sigh, it sounded similar to how Juza felt, relieved. Good. His mood only improved as the evening went on, telling stories and eating s’mores with the rest.

He was glad.

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lov3nerdstuff · 5 years ago

Text

... because you're mine.

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Oneshot

Words: 4.7k

Summary: Things get steamy between you and Tom after another man asks you out.

Request: I was the actress in Betrayal, but Tom was playing Jerry instead of Robert. As the production goes on, the kissing scenes get steamier (he finds THAT spot on my neck!) until I tell him my feelings, he says he doesn't reciprocate & doesn't do romance in the spotlight. After another man asks me out & I say yes (but don't realize it's a date) he kisses that spot during the performance & whispers that I'm his. 🤯 --> @annwhojumps

A.N.: Prepare for some jealous Tom 😉 also, 'I put a spell on you' can be read as an independent prequel to this, but srsly doesn't have to!

Also check out my Masterlist!

_______________________________

You had absolutely no idea why you had been cast to play one of the main characters in this highly prestigious production of one of your favorite plays… After all, you had only auditioned for fun! As a recent graduate from the school of dramatic arts, your chances really hadn't been all too high, and yet you had been selected for the title role. However the shock of it was only topped off when on the first day of rehearsals, you had discovered that your fellow actors were nothing but the brightest stars of modern age theater… and your scene partner was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

Yet, as surprising as it might have been for everyone in the theater, you and him had connected immediately, on a level neither of you really understood. But you had both been certain by lunch break that you would definitely enjoy being around each other from now on.

The first days of rehearsals went well, to say the least, and every single day you and Tom got closer. You got to know each other better, more than anyone else in the cast, and spent almost every waking minute at each other's side. And once the actual rehearsal period started and everyone got on stage, you found yourself enjoying the whole thing immensely. Acting with Tom was the greatest joy, for he seemed to really enjoy both your general company and your professional work together, and even the other A-listers seemed to warm up to you slowly. Still, nobody had an idea why you had been selected for the role, but honestly it didn't matter much. You fit in so nicely with the more experienced actors that in no time, everyone seemed to have forgotten that this was, in fact, your first real job.

Yet, as rehearsals continued on to a more detailed level, not just the blocking, you found your nerves and stomach in knots as you got ready to start the first real run through the scenes.

In the final act of the play, you would need to not only kiss Tom, but literally make out with him on stage, in front of your colleagues and the audience… The thought of stage kissing alone made you nervous, for it had never been your favorite thing even in school, and the thought of kissing Tom of all people simply had you close to hyperventilating.

The thing was… you wanted to kiss Tom. More than anything, actually, for with every new day you spent joking, bickering, laughing and talking with him, your adoration for him turned into the deepest affection, turned into sincere love. And even worse: Tom was so much more than you could ever have hoped for, and it was simply impossible to not love him more with every fucking day. Yet you didn't dare to confess your feelings. It was unprofessiona l, and you were supposed to work together with him here, not fall for him. If people got to know about your feelings, they surely would call you either starstruck or simply unprofessional, and nobody in the field would ever cast you again. Fuck.

So you ignored your feelings, pushed them away to as much as the by now close friendship you had would allow you to show. It was painful, but necessary. Even more so since he kept being overwhelmingly nice to you, walking the thin line between friendship and something more like it was a freaking highway. You couldn't tell what he felt for you even if you tried… one moment he was just being the dork he really was, and the next he would stand impossibly close to you, looking into your eyes like you were all that mattered to him in this world.

And now that you stood in front of him, looking up into his eyes with all the overwhelming nervousness and tornment, his soft smile and gentle eyes were balm for your soul.

"Relax, Y/n. It'll be fine..." He whispered to you so that the others wouldn't hear, only seconds before his nose brushed against yours ever so slightly, hot breath fanning across your lips as they parted ever so slightly on their own account. Your eyes fluttered shut. This wasn't Tom kissing you… this was his character kissing yours.

Soft, chilled lips connected with the corner of your mouth as his hands grabbed onto your waist, gentle fingers brushing against the small glimpse of heated skin just below the hem of your shirt. Your breathing hitched. His lips ghosted over your jaw as his hands trailed down to your hips, your thighs… you were supposed to push him onto the couch behind him.

Reluctantly, a little too reluctantly even for your character, your palms pressed against his toned chest, curling around the soft fabric of his shirt. He nibbled on your jaw, and you pulled him closer to yourself by his shirt. A low, growling sound escaped his lips as they left a trail of feathery kisses down your neck, and you finally managed to give him a little push that made him fall backwards onto the couch. Yet he held on to your hips tightly, and you came crashing down on top of him, straddling him as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. A brief glance into his darkened eyes… you gasped, and Tom stared at you like a deer in the headlights. Awe mixed with fear.

"That was amazing, guys!" David, the director of your play, called from the side of the stage, and your breathing hitched yet again as you snapped out of this moment of public intimacy. How the hell were you supposed to do that every day from now on, without giving yourself away?

Rather awkwardly you got off Tom's lap, and forced away the blush as he tried to do the same.

"You, uhm…" Tom spoke up from right next to you, voice hoarse and heavy. "You did really well."

"Oh… thanks." You replied quietly, trying to calm down your racing heart for the next scene. And that hadn't even been a full on kiss to the lips!

_______________

For the next two weeks, David had Tom and you rehearse the scene every day, and every day things got steamier, more raw, more real… At least they switched out the couch thing for you sitting on a counter to be on eye level with Tom, but honestly… that didn't make it any better. Your fellow actors put it off as fabulous acting, but you knew that it wasn't quite the case. Every day, hiding your true feelings for Tom got more difficult, and every day you felt more desperate for a real kiss.

That was until one Friday night, when David made you run through the entire play yet another time. It was already fairly late in the evening, but he'd promised to just have ONE more go before everyone could go home. Everything went well as always, you played your part with the greatest joy and focus, right until it was time for that scene again. It started off like all the times before, Tom stepped closer to you with the most intense energy that alre ady had your skin covered in goosebumps before he even touched you. Gentle hands on your waist, pulling you close as he stood in between your legs… a ghost of a kiss to your jaw, down your neck… your eyes closed as they always did. This time however, be it for the late hour of night or your increasingly shrinking resistance to your own emotions, your hands moved to his neck before you could will them not to, gently tugging on the lush curls in his neck. Almost immediately the faintest sigh, almost a quiet moan, escaped his lips and their loving work on your neck grew bolder, firmer… Until he found that one, secret and crazy sensitive spot that upon the touch of his lips made your back arch towards him and your mind become even more hazed. Now it was you who let out the faintest moan, unable to keep quiet, yet only for him to hear. The grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, and before you knew how to hide the effect he had on you, he gently bit down on that oh so sensitive spot, sucking and nibbling on your delicate skin.

You felt like exploding, inside out, within your mind and in every cell of your body. Every single nerve of your being was ablaze, the feeling of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body… it all contributed to the hidden coil of pure energy within you that was dangerously close to bursting. If you snapped now, the entire production crew would become an involuntary witness to your impossible love for Tom. And that would be your downfall even before the rise.

But just then the scene continued on, and you were pushed around by other characters, spoken to and spoken for, all until at last, the play ended and the crew applauded, before you practiced who would bow when and leave to which place. Yet, your mind wasn't even in the same theater anymore. Your thoughts were far gone, to a place where only you and Tom existed, a place where you could let yourself love him.

Before you knew, David had finished his commentary of the performance, all the actors had said their goodnights and even the staff had sorted out the last of lighting and audio. Only you were left on stage, frozen in place with only the dim emergency lights illuminating the area around you. The entire audience room lay in darkness, as did the sides of the stage… only the center was lit up so sparsely that it was almost spooky.

"Are you alright?" Tom's voice from right behind you made you jump yet again, and he chuckled upon your flinching.

"God, you scare me!" You breathed, holding a hand over your racing heart. At least, if he could hear your frantic heartbeat now, you had an excuse.

"Nah, you can keep calling me Tom. 'God' is a bit too much." He winked at you with a smirk, and you just had to laugh. Tom was the greatest dork, and you absolutely loved it. "Why are you up here, all alone? Everyone else is heading home."

"I'm not alone. You're here." You smirked at him, wiggling your eyebrows in an attempt to make him laugh. It worked, and even in this minimal light, you could still see his eyes sparking down at you… oh, that darn spell he put on you.

"Wanna tell me what's up?" He inquired, leaning his head to the side.

"Why would something be up?" You frowned, but the slightly too high pitch of your voice gave you away. For an actress, you were horrible at lying. Especially to Tom.

"I can always tell when you're distraught, darling." He mused, then turned around and walked to the edge of the stage, jumping off and vanishing in the darkness of the audience room.

"I'm not distraught!" You protested into the darkness. "I'm just… stressed. Because of the opening night in a week. That's all. And what are you doing over there anyway?"

"Making sure you, my darling Y/n, feel less stressed!" He replied cheerily, and mere seconds later you heard soft tunes coming from the theater's speakers, flowing through the empty room like a soft wind, a breath of fresh air. A smile came onto your lips, and a few short moments later Tom got back onto the stage with you. "They've all gone home, so we shouldn't be bothering anyone."

Again you smiled, resisting the urge to rip your heart out of your chest and tell it to slow the heck down. Tom was ALWAYS around you, wherever you went… this wasn't new. But usually you weren't completely alone, and usually your steamy scene didn't leave your heart screaming and begging for more this badly. For something real.

"Here…" He handed you his phone as he came to stand right in front of you. "Choose a song and we'll dance."

"We can't…" You frowned, but still took his phone upon his request. "This is work, I cannot lose my job, you know that very well, and the theater…"

"Will still be here tomorrow morning just like it is right now." Tom interrupted you with a mischievous yet happily excited smile. "Dance with me? Please?"

Oh, how could you resist those puppy eyes? Never, not in a million years could you refuse that man anything at all. With a sigh you considered your options… it was now or never. This was your chance to tell him, to SHOW him how you felt, despite everything that spoke against it. But he needed to know, and he deserved to know. And thus you made your song choice accordingly.

For a short moment Tom frowned, but once the lyrics started his eyes widened in recognition, and he smiled brightly. "Hey, I actually know a version of this song!"

"Good…" You chuckled, then returned his smile. He took a step towards you, taking your hands in his reluctantly and carefully, but still with that adoring smile. Slowly he pulled you closer to himself while his eyes never left yours, until at last he wrapped an arm around your waist and kept holding your hand in his own.

"Dance with me?" He asked again in a quiet voice that barely stood out over the music surrounding you, and all you could do was nod as you lost yourself in his eyes once more. Only that you couldn't yet say if you lost your bravery or your restraint.

Gently swaying to the music, Tom's hold on you seemed to tighten by the second while your emotions tightened around your throat in a menacing grasp, squeezing until you could hardly breathe anymore. Your hand on his back, clasping his shirt tightly, and your head fell against his shoulder as your eyes closed to the strong beating of his heart. Could he be feeling the same for you? He surely was all about you, every single day… but always reluctant to cross the line of friendship. You had to know, or your mind would tear your soul apart.

He had always been there to comfort you once you had started to doubt your place among the cast, and always pointed out how absolutely amazing you were in his eyes, both as an actress and as a person. And after you had told him about your fear of getting kicked out of the production, he had hugged you tightly and told you that he would make sure that nothing of the sort would happen.

"Oh gosh…" Tom suddenly breathed and you were forced to lift your head again, eyes locking back with his.

"What's up?" You frowned ever so slightly as you spoke, only to find your voice laced with the impossible weight of bottled up emotions.

"I… uhm, your skin…" He started, letting go of your hand in order to touch a gentle finger to the small bruise forming on your neck.

Your breathing hitched as his fingertips traced over that certainly spot once more, but you couldn't bring your eyes to leave his even though they were doomed to darken upon his gentle touch. The song ended, the theater fell quiet but for your shivery breath. Tom's eyes remained on yours, blown and unfathomable in the depth of their ever concealed emotions… his fingers ghosted over the spot on your neck yet again, and you visibly jumped right under his fingertips. His eyes darkened.

And before your mind could come back to its right place in the shadows of worry, your lips were ghosting over his in a gentle brush of reluctant innocence. Careful, asking for silent approval… but it never came.

You took a step backwards, tearing your own heart out in the process, while looking into Tom's wide eyes that were so hopelessly full of mixed emotions that you couldn't possibly tell what he felt. He only stared at you with the saddest face as his chest rose and fell too quickly and the silence between you became unbearable.

"I'm sorry…" You breathed and finally allowed the tears to gather in your eyes, blurring your vision and making it luckily impossible to see the pained expression his own gaze held. "I'm so sorry… I… I love you Tom. I love you… I'm so sorry."

For a few seconds he just stood still right in front of you, the very incarnation of a torn soul, until he finally took a step backwards. Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry, Y/n…" He breathed with an expression that through your tears looked utterly unfathomable. "I… I can't."

"It's okay…" You smiled through the tears, adding just one more dagger to your already shattered heart. "You don't have to love me. It's okay."

Tom's lips parted immediately as if to reply something he knew he shouldn't, but he closed them again and looked down to the ground with a frown. Silence…

You couldn't bear it any longer, neither the pain nor the sight of his regretful face. It really wasn't his fault that you had fallen in love with him, and it wasn't his fault that he didn't love you back.

"You, uhm… you may not want to kiss that spot on my neck again, in rehearsals. It would be rather painful." You said quietly, as you walked past Tom towards the stage door without another word. And had you turned around only one more time, you might have caught a glimpse of the tears in his eyes.

_______________

You honestly didn't know what you had expected. That someone like Tom would actually love you back? Well, maybe. That telling him would make you feel better? Definitely. But had it? No… it made everything worse, and you could only hope to pick up the pieces now before it would be too late to save the friendship you had established.

And yet, on Monday morning when rehearsals went into the final week before opening night, you couldn't bring yourself to face Tom. Just looking at him, drinking coffee or eating sugar cookies or whatever, it made you want to bawl all over again, despite your attempt to convince yourself that you had run out of tears by Sunday night. And as Monday continued, you did your job and played your part surprisingly well for someone who hadn't slept a single minute in three days. Only that you avoided speaking to Tom despite your heart's ardent yearning to be close to him again… you honestly didn't know what you should've said.

And so the week continued with as much professionalism as you could manage, however the play's happiest scenes seemed a little more dull, like December's prevailing grey, while the sad ones appeared downright tragic in their deep sorrow. Yet, luckily, nobody but you seemed to notice. Almost nobody… for Tom's smile these days seemed to differ not from his character's, fooling even the most watchful eye but yours. You knew him better by now, knew that his honest smile did inexplicable things to you while his feigned one merely served to set lose the smallest butterflies. Or maybe they were moths indeed.

All your energy went into doing the best possible acting job you could, and actually succeeding in it.

Yet, on Thursday night, the second to last day of rehearsals, an event as unexpected as dawn at midnight momentarily lifted you out of your gloom.

"Hey, Y/n?" David called to you once everybody moved to the backstage area to pack up for the night.

"Yeah?" You managed as much as an acknowledging frown, but not a smile.

"Uhm, you know… I was wondering if you would fancy some dinner tonight? Nothing special, really, but there's this nice pub around the corner, and they serve the best burgers in town. I'm paying! Still owe you for that ingenious idea with the counter." He shrugged as he came to stand in front of you with a small smile, looking at your face expectantly.

In all honesty, you were starving. Luckily the first paycheck from the theater had come in, but that had barely sufficed to pay off the debt you'd gotten into over the previous period without work. That still left you with very little money to spend on quality food, and the prospect of both getting something to eat and some distraction from your thoughts about Tom sounded very tempting all of a sudden. And David had said it was nothing special, after all. Only payback.

"Sure, sounds great." You returned a weak attempt at a half smile. "Just let me grab my things and I'm all ready to head out."

He nodded, and you did just as you had said, walking over to the dressing rooms to get your bag and jacket as quickly as you could, for your stomach wouldn't hold up much longer before it would start digesting itself. And yet, just on your way out of the shared dressing room, rounding a corner, you bumped into someone. The someone was Tom.

Your eyes locked with his immediately as they went wide with both surprise and shock, and for a few long seconds you only stared at each other in this unfathomable expression of mixed guilt, sadness, pain and longing. It hadn't even taken one single, broken second however for him to have you under his spell yet again.

As your lips parted at last, in an attempt to force your brain to form sentences, his gaze darkened and he looked away, a deep frown falling upon his face.

"Tom…" You started, but he interrupted you before you could bring out any expression of sincere remorse.

"Have fun with David." Was all he said before he pushed past you into the dressing room and left you standing in the dim overhead lights of the hallway, alone.

_______________

The evening went alright, for you at least succeeded in one thing out of the two you were hoping for, namely getting something proper to eat. Forgetting about Tom however didn't even remotely work out, for David kept going on and on about how amazing the two of you were doing in the play, except for the last scene, which according to him had gotten a little stiff, beginning with this week. You'd agreed of course, but not told him the reason for that, and only promised to do better on Friday.

Yet once Friday afternoon came, and it was time to run through the entire play one last time, you stood on stage chewing on your bottom lip. The first half of the play had gone well, and you used the break in between now to try to gather up some courage to do the scenes with Tom the best you could. David however interrupted your train of thought as he slalomed around your co-actors on stage, towards you. As he politely pushed some people out of the way, you spotted Tom on the other side of the stage, watching you intently.

"Y/n!" David said cheerily as he came to stand in front of you, and you put on a fake smile. "Y/n, I… I just wanted to thank you again for the lovely evening. It was a little… spontaneous, for a first date, but-"

"Date?" You blurted out, interrupting David. Behind him, you saw that Tom was walking away. Damnit. So you focused back on the man in front of you with a blush and an irritated expression. "Uh, I… we… but…"

Recognition flashed through David's face, before a sheepish smile spread on his lips and he chuckled in what you could only call embarrassment. "Well, I see we didn't really have the same idea about last night then… Uhm… I… I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I really didn't mean to. If you'd prefer it not being a date, that's perfectly fine. Sorry."

"Oh, no, I mean yes, I mean… I'm sorry! I kinda didn't get the gist last night, and I thought we were only going for dinner as colleagues, or friends… because that's really all I consider us to be…" You said, feeling a little bad for him. But you really didn't have any interest in him like that, and your mind was entirely elsewhere at the moment. "But you know, it's totally fine… We had a fun evening and now that we're on the same page about that, all is good. Right?"

"Yeah… All's good." David gave you another apologetic smile. "Thanks for being so chill about this… misunderstanding."

"Oh, don't worry… I have enough drama in my life right now to suffice a lifetime. I don't need any more of it." You chuckled softly, and David gave you a thumbs up before making his way off stage to announce the end of the break.

_______________

Something was off. Not only because Tom was actually a good five minutes late for the second half of the play to begin, but also because he refused to even look at you during the first scenes. Your stomach was in knots, as were your nerves. Gods, you missed him...

Then it came to your scene… and Tom's eyes were on yours so suddenly that they felt like a strike of lightning that went right to your core. He had you under his spell again in an instant, and you were lost for the outside world.

His gaze was dark, intimidating… dangerous, as he came walking towards you, and you felt like prey sacrificed to a starving god. The hand that usually fell to your waist in such a gentle manner was replaced by a strong, demanding grip that had your skin covered in goosebumps immediately as he pulled your frozen frame against his own once he stood in between your legs, tightly pressing you against him. Your lips parted.

An inch between your face and his, quivering breath fanning across your skin… the gentlest of kisses on your cheekbone, a ghosting of his lips down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as your head leaned to the side, willingly surrendering to him the most sensitive skin of your neck.

A sigh from the depth of his throat, and your breathing hitched, your hand reaching out to touch him only to halt mid-air in a shiver of reluctance, of remembering… The sweetest of kisses in a torturing slowness down your neck, the tickle of his breath on your skin, and your hand became entangled in his curls without your permission.

A low hum met your ear from the depth of his chest as his lips grew bolder and his hold on you stronger… You pulled him closer to you with the faintest gasp, tugging on the silken strands of hair between your fingers. The echo of his heartbeat in your chest, drumming with your own.

A growl… his lips found your weakest spot where last week's bruise was fading alongside the memory of his touch. A bite. Your quiet moan into the silent room, his name falling from your lips like a silent prayer. You pulled him closer… He stilled. A deep breath.

Tom's lips were on your own in a heartbeat, intense and passionate like licking flames, taking and giving the love previously denied. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to trace your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, asking, trying… and you allowed him.

Like troubled waters that roughly wave, your mind's twists and turns ebbed down only with the passing storm at last, and finally you could see, could feel, through the sudden regained clearness, to the very bottom of the sea of truth. Tom loved you… he had all along.

Then your thoughts stilled once his lips left a haunting trail of feathery kisses as they moved to your ear, and at last he spoke in a whisper. "You're mine."

______________________________

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I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed this 😊💚💚 I was kinda inspired to write something more steamy both by @hopelessromanticspoonie and @just-the-hiddles , for they just write the greatest steamy stuff 😁 I'm still trying to improve though, so feedback is more than welcome 💗 hugs!

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