#i am writing this at [ungodly hours of the night] so excuse me if this makes 0 sense. gonna schedule for a less offensive time of the day

[moonchild-in-blue]

Not forgiving yall for making me believe Price was a proper Tired Old Man™. What do you MEAN he is canonically 38/39 💀

and what do you mean Soap is like? 27? sir you are but wee boy. where are your parents.

[revelisms]

please do not feel obligated at all if you’re not feeling it or don’t get to it but since you’re taking writing reqs I would adore more tamaharu from you🫶 I really loved bee’s wing! when I got into ouran and asked for tamaharu recs it was recommended to me multiple times right away haha

Aw! I continue to be flattered by the day that folks are still enjoying bee's wing 🥲 It was such a special fic for me when I wrote it, and even though it's been ages since I've written these two, I still love them to bits. Truly the top-tier bi4bi disaster couple.

That said—the fact that you've just given me an excuse to put Ouran on my dash in 2023? I am showering you with hearts. My inner child nostalgia is brimming right now.

I've been in a very holiday mood recently, so I hope you enjoy this little Christmas-themed drabble 🖤

No warnings / 1.2k words / Established relationship, goofiness, fluff

It starts softly—a low humming of voices and breaths that echoes off age-weathered stones: contralto, baritone, tenor, soprano: ebbing like a pianist's solo against a murmuration of gilded strings—and builds. It tethers Haruhi's attention before she can wrestle with it, a warm set of fingers still squeezed within her own. On the horizon, past the speckling snow, the glittering panes of a cathedral window gleams.

"Can we," she finds herself murmuring. At her side, Tamaki shifts, the ungodly red-green-blue of his patterned sweater blurred in her peripheral. "Can we go there?"

She knows when he's smiling, that faraway little crook that makes her stomach twist in knots; can see it, now, out of the corner of her eye, a haze of snowfall glistening through his fringe.

"You want to listen?" he whispers. 

Of course, he's delighted—and not doing much of a job hiding it. Dragging her out to this festival had been his own doing, after all.

He'd spent the evening prancing between their kitchenette and their living room, hellbent on convincing her to go with him, no matter how much she loathed tourist traps like these.

("Haruhi is so mean!" he'd wailed, shaking that ridiculous pamphlet from their university's event board in her face. "A true Scrooge! A cheerless fiend! Look at this, look—they have ice skating, and cookie decorating, and roasted chestnuts, and a parade, Haruhi, a full Christmas Parade—"

Into one of their couch pillows, she'd let out a dismal groan.

"And—and caroling," he'd blustered on, beaming ear-to-ear. "And a baking contest!"

"No."

"But mon chous! Mon petit nounours!"

"No."

He'd resorted to burying her full-bodiedly into the cushions, like some overgrown lapdog with no awareness of personal space. "You leave me no choice. We'll bake at home. A full extravaganza to our lonesome, since my dear Haruhi is clearly horrified to be seen with me in public—")

Needless to say: she had ended up, some hours later, in the ugliest sweater of her life, arm-in-arm with her boyfriend's giddy beanpole of a frame, trying fruitlessly to steer him away from plowing children off their feet in the ice rink.

The night had gone well enough, to be fair. Much of it, though, had come insufferably (reluctantly) at the heels of his own indulged whimsies.

At one point, she'd found him masquerading as a back-up Santa Claus after the hired performer had supposedly jumped ship for a bathroom break. It taken every willpower she had to keep her mouth shut when he'd beamed at her, plucking down his beard with a wink, as though she'd never be able to break through the disguise. It had sent the little boy standing beside him into a blubbering outrage, and himself into a panicked flurry of damage control.

Now, some hours later, the chill pinking their ears, they stand sipping their hot chocolates, hands tangled and watching the snow: a quiet, admittedly lovely moment, despite the crowds: the kind that never fails to make her look at his ridiculous clothes and windswept hair and the crinkle of unbridled joy in his eyes, and feel her heart melt, despite it all.

And the choirs are singing.

"I'm sure they have seats," he says to her, giving a light tug at their laced fingers. "Let's go see."

"But—the drinks—"

"Shh-sh-sh, a worry for another day," and he's already starting her off, his dress shoes slipping in the snow, determined nonetheless. His eyes glitter over his shoulder: a indigo prism of autumn skies, speckled with stars and moonlight. "My little bear wants to listen," he hushes, playfully stern, "we will listen."

Despite herself, a smile blooms.

The cathedral is more beautiful than she could have imagined. Grand iron-capped doors stand glossed with an evergreen so rich it shines nearly black. A pathway of tapered stone clicks beneath their shoes, resounding deeply into the cavern of a domed chapel, flanked with a wonder of gilded, candlelit-kissed glass. Nearest the dais, two choir groupings sing in tandem, tressed in robes of white. Their voices fill the air like some ancient holiness, like a folktale she'd forgotten: a mysticism that coalesces, beckons.

They're going to get scolded for not leaving tithes, for bringing liquids in here, for being visibly out of place, as she'd always felt in spaces like these—but Tamaki doesn't care. His thumb kneading gently at her knuckles, he shuffles them into a pew closer near the back, plunking down quietly amidst their cluster of other patrons.

His breath tickles her ear. "In Dulci Jubilo's one of my favorites," he whispers.

It's a gentle, powerful tune—wistful and reflective, in turns. The layers of the choir fill the hall in an cresting tide, striking a chord in Haruhi's heart that quivers.

She takes his hand between both of her own, holds it between her knees while they sit shoulder-to-shoulder. The song makes her think of the countryside in spring; like new life striving through desolation. A loneliness that feels like home, feels hurtful, feels hopeful, feels comforting. 

A loneliness that isn't so lonely, anymore.

Slowly, other movements come and go. In The Bleak Midwinter—a hymn that takes one by the hand and leads them to a pinnacle of beauty. Ave Verum Corpus—one of resolution, of rebirth, of redemption. Dormi Jesu—one that she turns to find Tamaki with the golden line of his brow gently furrowed, a lump in his throat, blinking a sheen from his eyes. 

Between her hands, his thumb fidgets. She squeezes it, carefully.

"My maman," he says quietly. "She liked this one."

Haruhi squeezes his hand tighter.

"I like it, too," she murmurs back.

For a moment, his closeness, the taste of green in his cologne, the calm that is him, in these rare enough moments, envelops her. Tears blinked free, he smiles down at her: a small lift of his lips, genuine and slightly crooked. And were they not in a church—were they anywhere at all, just the two of them to be found for miles—she may have kissed him, for long enough that she forgot anything but the hitch of his breath behind his teeth, the soft glitter of hair at his nape, the weight of his arms around her.

For now, the warmth of his palm will do.

The organ strikes up, again: a brighter shift. Tamaki leans down to nose into her temple.

"Can we make an orange garland, when we get home?" he says. His words pinch into a childish lilt. "With cinnamon sticks and cranberries?"

Haruhi fights the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she huffs out a breath, the start of a disobedient smile twitching at her mouth, and finds herself staring at the playful scrunch of his nose, close enough for her to count every freckle. 

"Fine," she sighs, poking her finger into the underside of his palm. "But just one."

Tamaki beams into a quiet giggle.

The old woman hunched in next pew finally cracks her back to shush them.

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Hello it is I, still awake at an ungodly hour- wait the sun’s rising—

ANYWAY! I was thinking of hero getting swamped with so much stuff that they kind of just shut down and haven’t processed a lot of things. The only who notices is villain, and instead of taking advantage of that like they should (they really should have-) they help them in a somewhat subtly way?

I am gonna attempt to sleep now :D -SleepyAnon

Frenemies

A/N: I felt this prompt on a spiritual level because I’m working on A LOT of stuff atm to get ready for the holidays and uh yeah…Sorry not sorry for how self-indulgent this may turn out 😊

Warnings: stress, burn out/over exhaustion

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | Requesting Information

Hero slumped in their uncomfortable desk chair, eyeing the endless stack of papers ruefully. The ache in their shoulder had grown to a constant shock of pain that traveled all the way up their neck and into their shoulder blade now. Twisting this way and that, they tried to loosen the stiffness in their body.

Their lips pursed, screwing their face up in discomfort.

They were never going to finish going through this pile of paperwork for the case, they were never going to finish writing their backlog of reports, and they most certainly were never going to finish their biology assignment before tomorrow night’s class.

Hot tears pricked Hero’s eyes. Groaning in frustration, Hero doubled over their desk and rested their head in their hands. Taking a deep breath and then another, Hero dragged their hands over their face and scrubbed their cheeks as if that simple gesture could wash away the dullness of their eyes from months of being over exhausted or—

Hero flinched, nearly falling out of their chair. Turning around sharply, Hero stumbled over themselves trying to get out of the chair and face the window.

Tap, tap, tap.

Hero rolled their eyes. Villain’s tapping grew impatient. Taptaptap.

Strolling across the room, Hero opened the window and crossed their arms, not allowing the hovering criminal to enter their dorm.

“What do you want?” Hero grumbled, glaring at their nemesis.

“Come with me,” Villain said, offering them a hand.

“Why?” Hero hissed, “So you can abandon me in the middle of nowhere so I’ll miss the test tomorrow and not only fail, but also so I can’t foil whatever your newest scheme is?”

Villain pouted. “Do you honestly believe I’d do something like that?”

Hero arched their brow.

“Okay, maybe I’d do something to delay you, but not in relation to school!” Villain quickly explained. “I’d never do something that evil. This shit’s too expensive to be pulling pranks like that. If anything, I’d kidnap you after the test. But this isn’t a kidnapping…although I guess it could be?”

Hero clicked their tongue. Reaching to close the window, they said, “Well while you figure out which it is, I’ll be getting my work done. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

They barely got the window closed an inch or two before Villain was grasping the bottom of the frame and yanking it back up. Staring back at Hero, they held the window open.

“When was the last time you had a break?” Villain asked.

“Right now, actually,” Hero lied, “So if you could just leave me alone, that’d be great.”

Villain’s eyes shifted to the room over Hero’s shoulder. Furrowing their brow, they opened their mouth to say something, but Hero took a step closer to the window and shoved them hard.

Slamming the window shut, Hero quickly latched it. Villain began their furious tapping, shouting at Hero to open up again, but Hero simply smiled. Waving at them, Hero pulled down the curtain and turned away.

One day, they vowed, they’d figure out which of their classmates was behind their nemesis’ mask. One day, but not today, they sighed as they wearily eyed the heaps of paper on their desk once more.

*

The warm scent of aged paper and ink hugged Hero’s senses. Surveying the library, Hero hoped to find a desk somewhere hidden amongst the stacks—preferably alone so they wouldn’t have to deal with human interaction but mostly so they could concentrate on studying for their midterms.

Weaving a path through the shelves, Hero ran a gentle finger over the spines. They didn’t know why they did, only that they couldn’t help it. The smooth textures, the occasional softness of a leather spine. It was about the only thing they’d smiled about in weeks.

It wasn’t that good things hadn’t happened to them in that time…it was just that they hadn’t gotten to enjoy what good did happen to them. Between their classwork, their extracurriculars, and their heroism, they barely had time to sleep let alone study, eat regular meals, or indulge in themselves.

Hero shook their head. They could focus on themselves after midterms. Once winter break rolled around, they could take a day or two to regroup and be selfish. But then they’d have to start their term papers and finish those reports their supervisor was looking for.

They were threatening disciplinary action now. Hero swallowed at the all-too-fresh memory. If they lost this job…they’d lose their scholarship and if they lost their scholarship…

Hero didn’t dare let that thought breathe. If they did, they’d have to face the reality of breaking down in the middle of the very public library.

They hadn’t realized how many people went to this school. Sure, they’d passed some of the regulars that seemed to be permanent fixtures of the library, but nearly all the study alcoves were taken up by people Hero had never seen on this campus before.

Worrying their bottom lip, they climbed the stairs. They prayed they’d find a table for themselves, alone and secluded from the common areas of the library.

Passing another table with a pair of students, Hero wondered if they should just give up and go back to their dorm. Turning down another aisle, Hero’s eyes lit up.

Nearly sparkling in the flickering florescent lighting, an empty table waited for them. Hurrying toward it as if there were someone waiting to steal it from them, Hero grabbed the chair like a life preserver and pulled it out. Unloading their backpack onto the wooden surface, Hero sat down on the hard chair and prepared themselves for hours of studying.

Sliding their laptop from their bag, Hero’s attention was drawn to someone sliding into the chair across from them.

“Uh, hi,” the person whispered. “I’m sorry, there just aren’t any other tables, and believe me I looked. Do you mind—cause I’ll leave if you…”

Hero offered a sympathetic nod. “No, it’s fine. You’re [Name], right?”

“Ah, so you’ve noticed me,” they smiled shyly. They pulled their laptop from a beat-up messenger bag but made no move to switch it on. “Maybe we could study together? Get to know each other a little?”

“Like you need help studying,” Hero laughed. [Name] was the best student in their biology class. And every one knew it too. Professor practically put [Name] on a pedestal, often looking to them in exasperation when someone answered a question incorrectly. Their reputation for playing favorites was one of the many reasons why Professor was a widely hated faculty member on campus.

Now if only Hero had known that when they’d elected to take biology. If they had, they would’ve taken chemistry instead despite being awful at chemical equations.

Chuckling, [Name] said, “That may be true for biology, but I’m hopeless when it comes to history. Why are they all named Henry? Or Louis? How am I supposed to remember the Sun King versus the dude who created the concept of divorce for his own gain?”

“Well, for one,” Hero laughed, “they’re from two totally different countries, and secondly I doubt [History Professor] will make all the choices Henry. That’s more of Professor’s style, if they even gave multiple-choice questions.”

Thoughtfully, [Name] admitted, “That’s true, but I’m still hopeless. So how about a proposal, I’ll help you study for biology, and maybe you could help me with history? Think about, we’ll both benefit from teaching the other what we know because it’s still going over the material and on the studying front, we’d be learning from the better student.”

Hero narrowed their eyes at them. Why did that sound like something Villain would say? Scanning [Name’s] face for any sign that they might be able to recognize them as Villain was utterly hopeless. Hero couldn’t picture Villain without their mask and they couldn’t picture [Name] with a mask on.

“All right,” they begrudgingly agreed, “it’s a deal.”

[Name] grinned at them. “Great! Then where do you want to start? Biology?”

“Sure.” Hero nodded.

And so began hours of pounding biology notes into their head and trying to help [Name] keep the European nobility from blurring together in their mind.

Hero had to admit that it wasn’t all bad. [Name] had made them laugh more times than they could possibly count. To top it all off, Hero could finally remember the phases of evolution. It wasn’t until the chime went off over the library’s P.A. system to signal it’s closing that they realized how much time had passed.

“Well…it looks like the dining hall’s probably closed by now too,” [Name] said, packing up their stuff. “Do you wanna, maybe, get something to eat? With me?”

Hero froze, their joints stiffening. “Uh…I, um—”

“It’s okay,” [Name] nodded, humming. “I get it if you’re busy. I mean it wouldn’t be midterms week if you weren’t.”

The piles of paperwork sitting on their desk flashed before their mind. Uncertainty wove through their gut, drowned out by the frustration simmering in their chest. “Do you know what? I would love to. I haven’t taken a break in ages thanks to all my…my studying.”

Hero’s heart furiously beat against their chest. They prayed that [Name] hadn’t noticed their near slip-up, but from the smile that had overtaken their face, Hero didn’t think they had.

“Great! I know just the place,” they said, hauling their bag over their shoulder. “And, if it would make you feel better and like you’re doing something still, we could always go over more of our notes.”

“We could,” Hero said slyly, “or…you could tell me about your next scheme?”

[Name] whipped their head around to face them. Stricken, their mouth opened and closed before they seemed to regain their senses. “H-how? How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Hero admitted, glancing down at their feet. “But you and I have never spoken and then you seemed to know how busy I’ve been and you’ve said some things in such a way that only Villain could say and—you just admitted it!”

Glaring at them accusingly now, Hero watched as Villain’s face split into that same easy grin that they’d flashed them earlier.

“So does that mean we’re not going to dinner anymore?”

“Oh no,” Hero said, “I’m starved. You’re taking me to dinner and we’re going to finish studying and then you’re going to tell me about your next scheme so I can get ahead of the paperwork.”

Villain laughed, hooking an arm around their neck and letting their hand dangle over their shoulder, leading them out of the library. “You stress too much, dear Hero. Don’t you know it’s the holidays? I’m taking a vacation until after the next term begins.”

Hero rolled their eyes. They grumbled, “I’m so glad to hear it. Gives me plenty of time to finish my paperwork from this term.”

But hey, at least they’d gotten their studying done, right? Side note: It’s only been a few years since I’ve taken biology and I cannot, for the life of me, remember anything I learned in that class

[subtlyalluring]

The cashier at the nearest shop to my place probably thought I just got back from a typical college student shenanigans at night, clubbing—or mayhaps they knew how depressed I was, from the way they would see me more at this kind of ungodly hour—it is four in the morning as I write this.

With my shorts and jacket on, I would go for a walk from my place to the nearest shop to buy whatever my eyes glance at first. Crackers that I don’t really like, cheese-filled bread that I only eat whenever I lose my appetite, or two canned coffee that would definitely amplify the volume of my anxieties.

In fact, I wasn’t there to buy stuff or goods. It was an impulsive act of mine, whenever I got so occupied with lots of heavy thoughts at night. Whenever I sensed that it started to suffocate me, I would grab my jacket and put my wallet in the pocket. Airpods are stuffing both my right and left ear so I can feel detached from the world.

I had no fear, as if I lived in a whole alternate universe where women are safe enough to walk at night. Oftentimes I would walk to the nearest shop from my place at 3 AM just to romanticize the misery, anxiety, and the desperation that I had to escape the prison of my mind that had been plaguing me on and off for years.

I would hit a puff or sit in front of the shop and glance over the empty street. The street lights are dim and sometimes it flickers, my guess it needs to be replaced with a new one. Then again, after a few milliseconds, I figured out that not everything old or worn-out should be replaced, sometimes fixing it up would be suffice to work it out.

It was my state of peace. I always hated crowds, noises, and people in general. But most people I’ve met have portrayed me as an obsessive blabbermouth, always knocking on people’s door, and looking for any excuse to talk. But truthfully, I would nag about how crowded the shop near my place was during the day, hence I only visit at night. The presence of people in the room were only the cashier and me. I could only hear my light footsteps and the sound of the keyboard tuts stomped by the cashier’s fingers.

We would exchange a brief glance and I would say “thankyou” in a soft, barely audible, voice. Then I would light a tobie, and sit there all by myself as if I’m a typical frustrated Japanese middle-aged man who just got back from my boring day-to-day job.

During my walk back to the place I lived in, my mind would be swarmed with doubts like whether life was worth living, was everything just a figment of my imagination, or what kind of coping mechanism worth to shoot a try (for my own sake, I am willing to try anything as long as it won’t cost me any form of destruction). If I am not sane enough, I would ask my mom to prescribe me sleeping pills or tranquilizers which she definitely would refuse because “It’s not my field of specialization nor do I have the right to prescribe you these”.

And her refusal would make me grab my rarely used pen and a piece of paper reeks of dust. I would pour anything, everything, words I didn’t get to deliver that have radicalized the way I behave. And I would simply leave my excerpt of thoughts unfinished, hanging, long-forgotten,

either like this one I’m currently writing, or much the same with how people have left me long-forgotten.

[heavenlyhischier]

only when you're high - rafe cameron

word count: 4.3k

summary: Rafe only ever talks to you when he's high, and you've eventually had enough.

warnings: angst i guess, language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, lil makeout sesh at the end

note: ik this isn't the request but i've been working on this for a while so here ya go <3 this is def not my best writing so dont judge it too harshly

3:53 a.m.

You had been dreaming about your cat taking over a world full of people with fish heads when the incessant ringing from your phone jolted you awake. You blindly flung your hand onto the nightstand, knocking over a half empty water bottle and a bottle of ibuprofen before your fingers grazed the cool screen. You picked up the device, nearly blinding yourself when you opened your eyes to see who was calling you at such an ungodly hour. Once your eyes adjusted to the screen’s brightness, the name ‘Stupid Kook’ was displayed across the top. You hesitantly swiped to answer.

“What in the flying fuck do you want,” You whisper yelled, propping your half-conscious body up with your elbow.

“Hey, baby,” He greeted, his voice dragging as if he was thinking too hard about his words. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

You stopped breathing for a moment, not sure what you were supposed to say to his weird revelation. You had been having a weird thing with Rafe for a few months now. After many drinks, you would often finding yourself making out with him in a secluded area. Despite your random make out sessions, he had never once called you to simply hear your voice. In fact, he hadn’t even called you before. It was usually always a quick ‘wyd’ text at midnight and nothing more.

“That’s weird, you’ve never called me before,” You pointed out, “You’ve also never called me baby before, so what’s that about?”

“Mm, I don’t know. Always wanted to call you that before so why not? What are you up to, baby,” He asked, his words slurring together in a way that could only happen while under the influence.

“You’re high aren’t you,” You sighed. Of course, he was high. You should have known that from the get-go. Rafe Cameron wouldn’t have called you sober; he never even looked at you sober.

A brief silence hung over the line, Rafe’s heavy breathing being the only thing coming through the receiver. “Maybe a little. Had a rough day, so I went to see Barry and now I’m at Topper’s. Talking to you.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile grace your features; a smile that was gone almost as soon as it came. You let your elbow fall from its position, your head falling back onto the pillow that was still warm from when you were asleep. “How sweet of you. What are you doing, anyways? Shouldn’t you be getting shitfaced and taking some innocent girl to bed?”

He let out an airy laugh before speaking. “The only one I’d like to take to bed is you, and we somehow always stop before it gets to that point. Anyways, it’s just me, Topper, and Kelce, and I started thinking about us in the back of my truck when we were outside. Before I knew what I was doing, you answered the phone.”

Your cheeks flared red as images of Rafe’s hands exploring your body flashed through your mind, the feeling of his ring on your skin igniting something inside of you. His mouth latching onto the sensitive spots of your neck as your moans filled his truck. You let your fingers ghost over your lips as if you could still feel his own on yours. More memories of him exploring your body in every way but the way you wanted him most were running through your mind. Every time you wanted to give in to him, give in to your urges, but you couldn’t.

“You know, I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you and I hate it,” He started, his words still slow, “I hate it because you’ll never let me have you.”

“Rafe,” You groaned, running a hand over your tired face, “I don’t really feel like giving myself to someone who only talks to me when they’re drunk or high. Someone who would rather be caught dead than with a pouge.”

“You know it’s not like that, baby. It’s complicated,” He tried, and you could tell there was a hint of unfamiliar panic in his voice.

“It always is. Guess I’ll see or talk to you next time you get fucked up. Goodnight Rafe,” You whispered before hanging up on the boy, ignoring his desperate protests.

1:38 a.m.

You turned the shower water off before stepping out onto the cool tiled floor, water dripping from every part of your body. You chose to ignore the buzzing coming from your phone, moving to grab the towel hung on the back of your bathroom door. However, the buzzing started again as you were drying off your legs.

“Who the fuck,” You groaned as you wrapped the towel around your still wet body. ‘Stupid Kook’ was making a second appearance, much to your surprise. “Yes, Rafe?”

“What’s up your ass,” He laughed his infectious laugh. You could picture him throwing his head back and his glazed over eyes twinkling with amusement, something you had only seen when you found yourself admiring him from afar.

“Nothings up my ass. Just don’t know what your high ass wants this time.” You gripped your phone in your hand and started to walk back towards your room. Your parents had fallen asleep hours ago, so you had to make sure you were quiet. However, that deemed difficult in the darkest hours of the night in your already poorly lit house. You bumped your hip and stubbed your toe on just about anything that was out in the open. Once you were in your room, you hastily shut the door and flipped the light switch on.

“Hello! Hello! Hello! Where are you,” Rafe yelled, making you wince and pull the phone away from your ear.

“Jesus, dude. Calm down, I was walking back to my room,” You chastised, doing your best to hold your phone in between your ear and shoulder.

“What were you doing? I missed you,” He pouted.

You ignored the swelling you got in your heart and said, “I was leaving the bathroom. I just finished showering. What are you doing?”

You grabbed a clean pair of underwear and a shirt you had taken from JJ after you had thrown up over whatever you were wearing that night. Rafe began telling you what he was doing, which was quite literally nothing. However, he quickly dove into a spout of how you were naked and wet and how badly he wanted to see you without any clothes on. Your cheeks were burning as he went on and on about all of the sinful things he wanted to do to you. You let him ramble on a bit more as you turned the light off once you were clothed and ready for bed.

“Okay, that’s enough, Rafe,” You stopped him, pulling your blanket back so you could crawl in bed. “So, calling me two times within a week? You falling in love with me?”

It was so painfully obvious that it was a joke, but you could practically feel the tension radiating through your phone from Rafe’s end. His abrupt silence concerned you because this boy was far from silent when he was doped out.

“Maybe I am,” He finally got out, and you couldn’t detect any sarcasm in it.

“Sure you are,” You rolled your eyes, blaming exhaustion for briefly clouding your judgment, “If you were in love with me, you’d actually talk to me when you aren’t too fucked to remember your own name.”

You started picking at a loose thread on your blanket as you let your mind wander to what life would be life if you had an actual relationship with Rafe. Going to parties with him. Hanging around the Island Club with him and his friends. Him doing lines off your body before having his way with you.

“I will talk to you when I’m not high,” His voice broke you from your thoughts, “If that’s what you really want.”

“I do,” You said way too quickly, “I mean, yeah sure. That would be nice, I guess.”

“Just text me and I’ll answer.” You couldn’t stifle the yawn that escaped your lips, but you did try and hide it from Rafe. Your attempt was no good, though. “You’re tired, go to bed.”

“No, I’m fi-.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Rafe shouted over you, “Talk to you soon, baby.”

Rafe’s name popped up on your phone screen every few days after he had gotten drunk out of his mind or too high to do anything other than find your contact. You didn’t mind it at first, but after you had texted him during the day and those messages went unanswered, you grew hurt and annoyed. You had tried asking him why he wouldn’t respond, but he always found a way to change the subject. You wanted to ask him about it in person, but you hadn’t seen him in almost a month. You wanted to ask him why he couldn’t bother to pick up the phone when he was sober, but wasted no time in calling you as soon as he got his bump in.

One of the nights he called, you offered to have him come over because your parents were gone, but he said no. Made up some excuse about how he was staying with Topper for a while since Sarah cheated on him and he wanted to be there for his friend. You understood that, so you didn’t push him after that. Then, the next time you told him about a party everyone was going to and how you wanted to see him there. You even told him to bring the other two. That time he told you he was staying away from parties for a while, wanting to stay to himself for the most part due to the constant stress from his dad. You knew how Ward could be sometimes, so it wasn’t hard to believe him and move on from there.

You wanted to be mad to him for only acknowledging you when he was high, but you couldn’t be. You’ve always wanted to feel wanted by somebody, and he made you feel like that albeit only when he was far gone from reality. You could deal with it as long as you got to talk to him, no matter how insecure it made you. Well, you thought you could.

2:25

Your parents were gone for the night, so you opted to watch Marvel movies in the living room. You were so invested in watching Iron Man and shoving popcorn in your mouth that you didn’t feel your phone go off the first six times. Or the fifteen times after that. Not that you would have cared either way. You knew the only person it could be was the boy who never wanted you sober. The credits began rolling across the TV, so you finally decided to pick up your discarded phone. You were shocked to see Rafe had called you eight times and texted you thirteen. Overall, his texts said the same thing.

Why aren’t u answering me :(

Call me pls

I wanna talk to you baby

It was if he knew you were finally looking at your phone because his contact popped up not ten seconds later. You rolled your eyes, but reluctantly answered.

“Y/N! Where have you been,” He whined into the receiver, “I’ve been trying to call you for like two hours.”

“Watching movies,” Your words were sharp and short, not particularly wanting to talk to him right now. You’ve nearly reached your breaking point with him.

Rafe could immediately tell something was off with you by the way you sounded. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath in, setting your bowl of popcorn on the coffee table after you paused the end credit scene. You leaned forwards and planted your elbow on your knee as you held your head in annoyance.

“I’m fine, Rafe. I’m just getting fed up with you only wanting to talk to me when you’re high or drunk,” You started, “I used to be fine with it because it once every couple of weeks, but now it’s almost every day and it’s annoying. You told me to text you when you’re sober, and I did, but you never responded. I try and offer to come over to you or have you come to me, but you always have an excuse. I know you want to be there for Topper and you don’t really want to be around anyone right now, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with it.”

“Y/N, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just-It’s complicated. Please understand that,” He was practically begging you to listen to him.

“Rafey, are you coming back to play beer pong with us,” A female voice suddenly cut through the sudden sound of music.

Your breathing stopped and your heart felt like it was being squeezed by Rafe’s own hand. A wave of heartbreak crashed over your entire body. “‘I just don’t want to be around anyone’ huh? Thought you were just spending time with Topper for a while? You know, if you didn’t want to see me, all you had to do was say so,” You whimpered, hurt now mixing with your anger and annoyance.

“No, wait,” He tried, yelling at whoever came in the room to get out, “Y/N, please. It isn’t lik-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. It is like that, Rafe. It is exactly like that. You don’t want to see me, and that is fine. I get it. Why would you ever want to be seen with someone from the Cut? It doesn’t matter, though. Don’t call me anymore. You lied to me. That is not something that I can forgive,” Your tears were too strong to hold back now, “I don’t care for liars, Rafe Cameron, and you’re the biggest one of all.”

You quickly hung up and turned off your phone, throwing it towards the end of the couch so you weren’t tempted to grab it. You grabbed the large blanket from the back of the couch, picked another movie, and let your tears fall as it played in front of you.

“Honey,” Your moms gentle voice broke through, “You fell asleep on the couch.”

You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the bright light shining through the giant window. The headache hit you like a ton of brinks, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in pain. Your mom was hovering over you, her hand on your shoulder and her soft eyes pretending to not notice how puffy your cheeks and red your eyes are.

“I guess so,” You mumbled, pushing yourself up into a sitting position, “I’ll go lay down in my room. I’m still tired.”

She gave you an understanding nod with a caring smile and helped you off the couch. Her hand lingered on your back as if she wanted to say something to you, but she decided to leave it alone for now. You would talk to her when you were ready, if you ever were. You gave her a thumbs up when she told you her and your father would be out again most of the day.

Your feet dragged as you stumbled back to your room, using the wall to keep you steady. You pushed the door open with your foot and gave your cat, who was laying on your bed as if she owned it, a stupid smile. You fell onto the bed and pulled her onto your chest as you turned your phone back on. You were scared to confront the actions from last night, but knowing Rafe, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to even send you a text about it. You were quickly proven wrong the moment your phone turned back on. The vibration from all of the texts, voicemails, and snapchats felt like it lasted for five straight minutes. Nearly all were from the boy you wanted nothing to do with. Although, you noticed a voicemail from Topper, who you forgot even had your number.

Um, hey its Topper. Look dude, I don’t know what happened, but Rafe is freaking out like a bitch right now. He keeps mumbling shit about how he fucked things up with, which I didn’t even know you two were a thing but whatever I don’t really care. He kicked everyone out of my house and has been calling and texting you for like thirty minutes straight now so please call him back, so he shuts the fuck up. If not for him, do it for my sanity before I kill him. Uh, yeah, thanks, bye.

You sighed deeply after the voicemail cut off, your heart rate increasing at the thought of Rafe being upset. If he was bad enough that Topper of all people called you, you knew it was bad. You wanted to not care because of how he made you feel, but you did. You’ve always cared about the blond boy more than you cared to admit. You finally decided to look at the messages he sent you.

Y/N pls call me back

I’m sorry its not what it looks like and I know that sounds stupid but its true

Pls talk to me. I need u to talk to me

I promise that I never wanted to hurt u ok???

I love you, Y/N. Please call me or I’m coming to your house tomorrow.

The world stopped spinning when you read the last message. You kept reading it over and over again as if you misread it the first time. Rafe had never been any kind of affectionate with you until he called you baby. Rafe Cameron was not someone known to get emotional, so you weren’t sure if you believed his words. He was a liar and would do anything to get what he wanted, so what was different now?

You heard a knock on the door followed by your moms muffled voice, but you were too focused on the situation in front of you to notice who it was. Your eyes were glued to the screen, staring at the three words you never thought anyone other than your family and friends would say to you. The world around you was fading away, your heart feeling as if it was going to beat out of your chest as tears slid down your still puffy cheeks. You weren’t going to let him do this to you. You weren’t going to let him toy with you anymore.

“Y/N,” A deep voice dragged you out of your subconscious.

Your eyes darted over to the door and saw the last person you wanted to see. Rafe was standing there, his eyes wide and blood shot and he looked like total shit. His hair was a wild mess, nothing like its usual tamed state. You met his gaze and you wished you hadn’t. One look from him and you were puddy in his hands. One look and every thought you had about never seeing him again flew out the window.

“Hey, can we talk,” He mumbled, his bright blue eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Please.”

Not trusting your words, you gave him a swift nod and gestured to the spot next to you on your bed. You leaned to the side and placed your cat on the ground, watching as she rubbed herself all over Rafe’s leg before scampering away. His walk to your bed was painfully slow, and you wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that was unreasonable.

“What do you want, Rafe,” Your voice was harsh, trying to ignore the urge to reach out to him. “What do you want to talk about? How you only use me for your own pleasure? How you only ever even look at me when you’re drunk or high? How you lied to me? Wanna talk about that?”

Your anger surprised even yourself. One second you wanted to hold him in your arms and comfort him, but then the memory of how he treated you came back and flipped a switch in your brain. You don’t know how you feel and you hate it.

“I deserve every bit of your anger,” He breathed out, letting his hand fall dangerously close to your own, “But please let me explain everything to you, okay?”

“Fine,” You gave in, “Talk.”

“Yeah, thank you, okay. I really do want to talk to you when I’m not absolutely fucked, I do. I know that it doesn’t seem like that, but its true. I just, I can’t. Every time I look at you, think about you, I hear my dads voice screaming at me that I will never be good enough for anyone. I have this thought drilled into my head every day that no matter what I do, who I am, I am just never enough. To me, you’re no exception to that. In fact, you remind me even more. Wait no.”

Rafe rubbed both of his hands over his face and tugged at his hair, afraid that he’s already fucking this up. “Rafe,” You gently spoke up, turning to grab his hands from his face. “It’s fine. Keep going.”

His eyes met yours and you could see how strained he was. There were too many emotions swirling in his eyes for you to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. “Okay, um, okay. To me, you are way too good for me, so the only time I feel comfortable talking to you is when I’m high. I’ve never had trouble talking to any girl before, but you’re more than that to me. You’re more than just some girl to me and it scares me, so I feel like I have to be, yanno, not me. When I talk to you. I want to be with you more than I have ever wanted to be with someone in my life”

Your hand was still holding his as you let his words sink in. Him revealing how his dad truly made him feel made your heart ache for him. It made you want to grab him by the face and tell him how he is more than good enough. You wanted to let him in, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for the risk that came along with it. You’re not sure if you want all the things that came with being with Rafe Cameron. He’s followed by hurt and lies, and you do feel guilty thinking that, but it’s been proven true countless times.

“Rafe, listen to me,” You began, moving so you were straddling him and holding his face in your hands. His hands immediately came to grip your hips, and you are well aware that this was a more than compromising situation. “I understand that your father is probably the worst person we both know, but that doesn’t excuse you lying to me. I don’t know if I can trust you, no matter how much I may want to.”

You watched as tears gather in his eyes, and he was doing his best to keep them at bay. He had never felt the way he feels about you before, and he’s more than aware that his reputation precedes him. He knows that he’s done nothing more than prove how untrusting he is to you, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from trying to prove to you that he means what he’s saying.

“I know that nothing I say will fix what I’ve already done. I know that, but I can show you just how much you mean to me, if you’ll let me. We can go at your pace. Do things your way. Just, please, give me another chance to prove myself to you.”

You’re searching for any detection of a lie in his eyes, in his voice, but you come up empty. You wipe away the stray tears that broke through his wall of protection. You hesitantly placed your forehead on his, and you could hear him take in a sharp breath at the connection. Your eyes fluttered closed, your nose brushing against his as you weighed all of your options.

“Did you mean what you to me? In your last text,” You whispered, too scared to open your eyes and look at him. “Do you actually love me?”

“More than you know,” His breath was hot against your chin, and he pulled you closer into him.

You decided to take a leap, dive into something that scared you more than anything. Your lips finally met his, and Rafe wasted no time in returning the feeling. Your hands fell from his cheeks and clasped each other behind his neck, while his hands stayed placed on your hips, too scared to push you too far. You deepened the passion filled kiss by pulling him closer to you and running your tongue across his bottom lip. Rafe’s lips moved in such a sensual way that you almost didn’t know how to react. It was much different from the lust filled kisses you’ve shared in the past. You started moving your hips on top of him, an action that had him gripping your hips tighter than before.

Y/N,” Rafe breathed out after he broke away from you, “If you don’t stop, I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“Then don’t.”

i have not edited this so if you see a mistake lmk. love u

[seung-hwa]

neptune

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader

Genre: Pure fucking angst babes

Warnings: listen it’s fucking sad okay, not enough people on here write sad shit and sometimes you just need to be sad alright??

Summary: The mini vacation that you’ve planned for yourself and Hongjoong is the last resort you have to save your dying relationship with him. You may still love him, but love isn’t enough to fix what’s broken.

A/N: This is VERY heavily based off of this song here. Lyrics are italicized.

Pitch black, pale blue. It was a stained glass variation of the truth and I felt empty handed. You let me set sail with cheap wood. So I patched up every leak that I could, ‘til the blame grew too heavy.

The wind that whips is harsh against your skin, the smell of the sea is heavy in the night air as the waves crash against the ocean shore. You try to focus your attention on the way the moon shines down onto the sea, rather than thinking about the argument that just ensued between you and Hongjoong.

This vacation was supposed to be a respite from both of your hectic lives, but of course what was supposed to happen never came to fruition. It started from empty promises before you even boarded the plane. He had sworn to you that he wouldn’t take work with him, that the company understood that he was taking some time for himself. It wasn’t like he was going to be gone for months at a time, just a week. A week is all you asked from him, all you needed was for him to put you first for just a single week.

You had been his rock since before his first audition, there for every single up and down in his career, you have always understood him and his busy schedule. Always. More often than not you felt like he took your patience for granted despite the many times you begged for him to just be present in the moment with you.

For you, this vacation was the last chance you felt like you had with him. You had hoped, with everything inside of you, that he’d leave his work behind and focus on you. It’s not like you asked for much, you figured that this couldn’t, shouldn’t, be so hard for him to do. But, of course, he proved you wrong.

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart. If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy. Thread by thread, I come apart. If brokenness is a work of art, surely this must be my masterpiece.

“You said you wouldn’t do this Joong. You didn’t just tell me you promised me that you’d leave all this shit at home,” you try to be calm but you can both hear the fury beginning to creep its way into your voice.

It was two in the morning, and you had woken up to a cold and empty bed, something you had grown used to back home, but not something you had expected to happen here. The day had been wonderful, you spent the morning exploring the small beach town, grabbed dinner once the sun started to set and as the night befell you spent the rest of it wrapped up in each other's embrace until you both fell asleep. Had you not woken up at this ungodly hour then you would’ve never known that he had snuck off into the night just to work. He had to have known you would wake up, you always do at this time just to go to the bathroom. You can only surmise that he thought he’d be able to make it into bed before you woke up but ended up losing track of time.

“I know baby I’m sorry but-,” you cut him off before he can even give you whatever excuse you know he had already thought of.

“No Hongjoong I don’t want to hear it from you. All I asked is for you to just give me your time this week. Why is that so hard?”

“I don’t get why it matters if you were already asleep,” and of course he won’t just sit there and admit he’s wrong.

“It’s the principle of it! When we’re home I am constantly having to wake up to my boyfriend not even being in the same bed as me. That shouldn’t be the case here, you know that!”

“And you know how busy I am! Honestly (y/n) don’t you think it’s selfish for you to expect me to put my whole career on hold for you?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you blurt out before even thinking about it. You’re automatically heated by his accusation.

“No, actually I’m not kidding at all. You know that I have a comeback just around the corner and you drag me away, the least you can do is let me work without feeling guilty for it,” he says, getting just as heated as you. He stands from the dining room table, now fully facing you and preparing for the argument you’re about to have.

I’m only honest when it rains if I time it right, the thunder beaks. When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how. I’m only honest when it rains, an open book with a torn out page and my ink’s run out. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how.

“This was supposed to be for us! No work! No responsibilities! We were supposed to come out here and just enjoy each other’s time. I didn’t realize it was so selfish of me to want for you to give me the attention you literally never give me when we’re home,”.

He gives you a roll of his eyes and fixes his face into a scowl. He looks as though he’s about to say something else but decides not to as he shakes his head and turns around. You reach for his arm and force him to look back at you.

“No! Nuh uh! You’re not just about to ignore me. Say what you want to say!”

“You really want to hear what I have to say?” He says to you with a raise of his eyebrow, irritation clear in his tone.

“I would love to hear whatever bullshit you’re about to spew right now!”

“You’re clingy, you’re needy, and it’s annoying (y/n). You’re so fucking annoying!” His voice begins to raise.

“Let me tell you something Kim Hongjoong, I’ve been here for you since the very fucking beginning with little to no complaints. The least, the absolute fucking LEAST you could do for me was this. I never ask you for much, NEVER,” it doesn’t hurt you that he’s called you clingy, needy or even annoying, it’s more irritating than anything else because it’s a bold faced lie.

“You take advantage of the fact that I have always stood behind you where others would have left you. And honestly? I am so fucking SICK of being with you when you never give me a moment of your time. Tell me Hongjoong, what the fuck do you want from me?”

“You’re being so dramatic,” he says, clearly none of what you’re saying is getting through to him.

“I don’t care if you think I’m being dramatic. I asked you a question. What the FUCK do you want from ME? Would it suit you better if I was just a little plaything for you to use whenever you need to get your dick wet? Is that what you want? Is that what you need? Because if that’s the case then let me know and I’ll be out of this door in an instant,”.

He raises his hand to his head, fingers rubbing at his temples as you can hear him mumbling under his breath.

“If you’re gonna say something then say it out loud. I’m tired of your shit,” you say.

“You know what. Yes. That’s exactly what I need. For you to leave me the fuck alone so I can get my shit done. Is that what you want to hear?”

I don’t know how. No, I don’t know how. I don't know how. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how. I wanna love you.

“You want to be alone? Fine! Then be alone! Maybe you’ll finally be able to feel how I’ve felt ever since you fucking joined your company and left me hanging every fucking day!” Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own. You can’t remember the last time you yelled, let alone yelled at Hongjoong. You’re just so sick of having to deal with being in a relationship where you’re the only one who cares enough to try.

You don’t let him answer back to you, instead you grab a jacket and stomp out of the house. You tell yourself that you’ll start packing your bags once you come back in, for now though you need to be able to calm yourself down.

Although the air is cold around you, you feel much warmer out here than you did inside the house. At least you know you can rely on yourself, Hongjoong has proven to you time and time again that you can’t rely on him for anything. You’re too angry to cry, too angry to even think straight as you watch the way the waves crash. Why is it so hard for him to just show you the love you know you deserve. He makes you feel like you’re crazy for wanting him to be present in this relationship, as if it’s a chore for him to love you like how he used to. You understand that he’s stressed from work, but what you don’t understand is his incessant need to always put himself under so much stress that the company doesn’t even expect from him. You’ve met the CEO, you’ve had lunch with him and other staff who treat the boys like kings, they aren’t the ones to put this pressure on Hongjoong. He’s the only person who puts this much stress on himself and you can’t comprehend why.

Maybe it is selfish for you to feel like he buries himself into his work just as a way to get away from you. He always seems to have time for everyone else but you, so what else are you supposed to feel when he makes you out to be the problem. You’ve felt the way he’s drifted from you for a while now, but you always hoped it was just because of work. Now you feel like it’s been purposeful.

You wonder if he still loves you. Do you still love him? Or have you both grown so comfortable with each other that the thought of finding something better, someone better, seems like too much of a hassle? You know he needs someone who will let him do his own thing, if he even needs someone at all. If anything you’re sure that Hongjoong would rather be single and happy than miserable and with you. You, on the other hand, know that you need someone who’ll actually give more than just 10% while you consistently give them 90. You need someone who will make time for you, not because they have to but because they want to.

Pitch black, pale blue. These wild oceans shake what’s left of me loose just to hear me cry mercy. A strong wind at my back so I, I lift up the only sail that I have. This tired white flag.

You can smell the rain before the droplets begin to come down. It’s the realization that you’re in a failed relationship that finally gets the anger to simmer down and become replaced by sadness. It’s far too windy for you to be out, but you would rather freeze out here than be anywhere near him.

As the clouds begin to roll in, the moon disappears, leaving you in pitch blackness. Despite the rain that begins to hit your skin, you stay seated in the sand, kicking off your shoes and digging your toes into the ground. You pull your jacket closer to your body, shivering as the rain begins to pick up. The waves and the rain are almost loud enough to drown out your own thoughts, but the sadness still prevails.

It’s painful to feel like you’ve wasted some of the best years of your life to someone who couldn’t care less. You’ve no idea how long you’ve been outside, and he doesn’t come out for you either. Maybe he’s far too invested in his work to notice how hard the rain is pouring outside of the house, maybe he has his earbuds in and can’t hear the way the thunder rumbles, maybe his eyes are so focused on his computer screen that he can’t see the way the lightning lights up the sky.

You experience all of it. You feel the icy rain stinging your skin, can feel the way the thunder rumbles the ground beneath you, see how the lightning illuminates over the ocean and makes the waves more daunting. And yet all the chaos around you can’t stand a chance to the chaos you feel in your heart.

This was it for you. You told yourself before you even planned the trip that if he couldn’t just keep his focus on you then this was it. You would stick to that decision and live with the consequences. It hurts because you wanted more for the both of you, but he kept putting everything else before you and you were tired of being second best.

When were you allowed to be his priority, especially when he was always yours.

I’m only honest when it rains. If I time it right, the thunder breaks. When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don’t know how. I’m only honest when it rains, an open book with a torn out page and my ink’s run out. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how, know how.

You feel a presence stand next to you. You don’t look up though. You already know it’s him, and it’s raining far too hard for you to bend your head upwards just to confirm your suspicions.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he says to you.

“If I shouldn’t be here then why are you,” snippiness enters your voice as you continue to stare ahead of you rather than at him.

“Let’s go back in before you catch a cold. Baby you’re soaking wet,” he places a hand on your shoulder and you roll it away from him. His touch is unwanted and the pet name just makes you angry again.

“Don’t pretend to care now just because of your guilty conscience,”.

“(y/n),” he sighs, “I’m not pretending to care. I do care for you please come back inside,”.

“But do you love me?”

“What?”

“You care for me but do you love me Hongjoong?”

“Baby-”

“Don’t call me that. Just answer the question. Do you love me?”

He stays silent, and that’s enough of an answer for you. You stand from your place in the sand, feeling the way it keeps itself attached to your clothes. You don’t even put your shoes on as you make your way back to the house, Hongjoong following right at your heel.

The heat hits you the second you make your way through the door, and a shiver settles into your bones, your mind finally realizing how cold you really are. For what it’s worth he rushes to get you a towel, wrapping it around your body as he steps in front of you. You don’t want to look at him still, but this is a conversation that you know needs to be had.

“Why would you ask me if I love you?” You can see the pain in his eyes, the regret is written clearly in his features and it makes you want to cry. He can sit there and lie to himself all he wants but you know the truth.

“We both know you don’t,”.

You watch him swallow the lump in his throat, tears beginning to gather at his waterline. You’ve rarely seen him cry, in fact you’re sure that Seonghwa has seen him cry more than you have. The thought makes you feel bitter.

“Don’t say that… Don’t pretend to know how I feel,”.

“Don’t lie to me as if I haven’t known you for years, loved you for years,”.

“So what? Do you not love me anymore?” his voice cracks towards the end of his sentence and it tugs at your heart, making you feel more terrible than you already do.

I’m only honest when it rains. If I time it right, the thunder breaks. When I open my mouth, I wanna tell you, but I don’t know how, know how. I’m only honest when it rains, an open book with a torn out page and my ink’s run out. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how.

You do love him. You can’t really stand here and convince yourself that you don’t because you do. You’ve spent so much of your time loving him, and in the beginning you loved the way that he loved you. But you can’t just keep holding on to the hope that he’ll love you the way that he used to. You’ve given so much of yourself to him, all for it to be taken for granted. So even though you do love him, you love yourself more.

“No,” you say with a shaky breath and a broken heart. You follow the way a tear slips out of his eye and down his cheek.

“I think we’ve grown complacent, don’t you?”

His response is to look away from you, hand wiping at his face haphazardly as the tears continue to run. You’re thankful you got all your tears out on the beach because you already feel so exhausted from the crying.

“Is this really just because of the work issue? Is that what needs to change?” there’s a bit of desperation in his tone.

“It’s more than that, but that is part of it, yeah,”.

He doesn't speak again, just letting the tears fall silently as you continue to watch him. You can see the gears in his mind turning, and you wonder if he’ll try to bargain with you, try to beg you to stay. You have to admit that a part of you would very heavily consider it if he pulled aside his pride and did so, but the longer you both stand there the more you know that he won’t do it. You’re sure Hongjoong is trying to convince himself that letting you go is what’s most beneficial to him, and you have to agree. Maybe he would be better off without you, and you’re tired of fighting for something dead.

“Is this it?” he asks you, voice coming out in a whisper. He barely sounds like himself, and it could just be because you find yourself trying to disassociate yourself from the painfulness of it all.

“I think it has to be,”. There’s a pit in your stomach that wasn’t there before, the finality of your words making your body react negatively.

“Okay,” he says, nodding sadly as he looks away from you and around the house in which you were supposed to spend the next six days together. So much for that vacation, huh?

“Now what?” he sighs.

“You can go back in the morning, pack everything up and head out on the first flight tomorrow if you’d like. We can deal with the rest once I come home,” you’re proud of yourself for not having a single voice crack.

He nods at you and heads off towards the room, presumably to pack his things and get his trip planned back home. You’re still shivering in the same spot, a wet puddle lays at your feet that you know you’ll have to clean later. You’ll have to do a lot of things later. For now though you’ll shower, and then sleep on the couch while Hongjoong leaves.

There’s an ache in your chest, a feeling of deep regret, but you know that you deserve to be happy. Hongjoong wasn’t your happiness, he hadn’t been for a very long while and you’ll have to learn to live with that. You’ll have to learn to be okay without him.

I don’t know how. I don’t know how. I don’t know how. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how. I wanna love you, but I don’t know how. I wanna love you.

More A/N: Alright yes I know that was pretty sad, if you’d like to read a Hongjoong fic that has a happy ending then look at this fic here (or if you just love pain then feel free to read this one instead). But, if those don’t appeal to you then feel free to peruse my masterlist here instead. I do have a tag list so if you’d like to be added onto that then let me know. Okay cool bye!!!!

[deidearly]

Kakashi Relationship Headcanons

Guess who’s back with another relationship headcanon today? And as usual, I had a good time writing this one even got slightly carried away, hehe. Enjoy! XX. 

Well— Hatake Kakashi, huh? Dating him would be such a roller coaster ride, tbh. It’s like, one moment he’s so clingy, fragile, so afraid of losing you— but one moment he’s like, “Just do what you need to do. I don’t really care.” This is due to the fact that he’s got a lot of things in his mind and occasionally struggled to sort out his priorities. 

Anyway, of course you’ve complained about his ‘reading-smut-in-public’ issue, especially when you’re together. You two would come up with an agreement somehow. But to piss you off, he’d pretend like you’re the one who’s obsessed with reading smuts.

You’re browsing for some important books and he playfully yelled, “Y/N! Come here, it’s your favorite book— Icha Icha Tactics! My, I know you’ve had four books, but another one won’t hurt, right? Since you love it that much!” making everyone in the bookstore giggled.

He received “Y/N Signature Punch” that day.

To your surprise, he’s not very secretive about his relationship with you. In fact, you’ve caught him frequently use you as an excuse for him to escape some unwanted occasions.

Let’s say Gai was asking Kakashi to fight him like usual— and he wasn’t having it that day. “Gai, with all respect— I would gladly accept your challenge. But can’t you feel the springtime of romance youth is blooming? I must see Y/N immediately.”

Gai’s tearing up.

Don’t worry, he actually went to your place.

“Yo. Can we hang out? I just told Gai that I would come to your place. Please say ‘yes’ to make me less of a jerk, will you?”

Would totally show up in front of your place at an ungodly hour.

At first it surprised you but now you’re used to it.

You just finished your mission, it went pretty well but you felt there were some wasted chances due to your captain’s miscalculation. It’s nearly 2 AM but you caught yourself wide awake, reviewing back your battle– only to got distracted by a knock on your bedroom’s window. Instead of turning your head in surprise, you already knew who it was. To have a little fun for yourself, you ignored the sound, which was later followed by a second knock. Walking over to the window, you saw a silver-haired man with a mask. Although half of his face was covered, it’s obvious that a smile was apparent. “Yo.” he greeted, but you replied with a sigh. “You could actually knock on the door and I’d let you in through the door. It’s something normal people would do, Kakashi.” you grumbled, opening the window for him to get in. “Ah, spare me the lecture!”

So, reverse psychology works best for Kakashi. Like the Icha Icha Tactics– the more you ignore his behavior, he would actually try not to read his book in public like you told him to. But the more you complain, he’d read it in places where he shouldn’t be reading it at all. This method works in almost every cases.

You’ve been dating for weeks, but you haven’t seen his face.

Yes, when kissing, too.

You’ve had enough of kissing fabric. 

You had planned to make a dinner together at his place. He was preparing the dishes and you’re about to finish your cooking, when he suddenly asked, “Hey, Y/N. Have you ever wondered what would I look like under this mask?” You were dying to know actually. So, now you’re stuck with two options: (a) be honest about it, (b) pull out another reverse psychological answer— and you chose the latter. “Huh? Not really,” you shrugged, “I don’t really care so it’s not like I’m eager to see it.” and of course, this was a lie. Kakashi went silent for a while. “Anyway, dinner’s re—“ you swore you could’ve dropped the whole pan when you saw an unfamiliar presence. “Kakashi?” you asked hesitantly. The man looked up with a questioning look, “Why are you blushing?” he replied casually.

“ANYONE WITH A DECENT EYESIGHT WOULD BLUSH TOO, YOU STUPID.”

He’s honestly so heavenly to look at.

Sometimes it’s just too overwhelming to see his whole face, you thought.

It’s safe to say that it’s a privilege to be able to see his face. But due to his immense charm, you’d prefer to have him with a mask on.

“Y/N, I feel naked without my mask—“ , “And I honestly feel like I’m being forced to see an illicit nudity, too. Put your mask on, it’s fine honestly.”

He’s been very good at his job for almost his whole life, a fine shinobi. So, he’s rarely exposed to mundane things, moreover a relationship. Thus, making him quite restrained in expressing himself. Plus, he was labelled with some negative titles, saying how cold-blooded he was and he just decided to live with it. This, obviously, requires a lot of patience.

But he’s determined to change, the first step he took was letting you in— into his life.

It started rocky, though.

He’d say something like how he didn’t care much about you and sadly, he really didn’t.

But as the time went by he realized how your presence has been the one that helped him through it. How you’ve always been there to comfort him, by listening to him, giving him a lot of supports, or simply by reminding him that he’s not completely alone.

And when that moment came, he’s sworn to protect you with all his might.

He had a lot of nightmares, he still does, unfortunately. But when you’re around, your presence eases him up a little.

When you’re not around, however, he’d rather spend all night unhealthily tiring himself until he fall asleep.

His personal favorite would be curling up next to you with his hand around your waist while hiding his face near the crook of your neck as he’s giving you some soft neck kisses.

Again, NECK KISSES.

He had a hard time trying to open up himself fully to you and this applies to romantic gestures, I believe. He surely would take his time to explore you, what you like, and what he likes.

Would shower you with kisses, all over your face without missing a spot. He greatly admires every inches of yourself. 

Body worship, oof.

Lowkey (semi highkey) protective.

Lowkey (semi highkey) a show-off.

Would straight up jump to save you if it’s necessary.

And since he’s a show-off, he lowkey loves PDA— but the soft ones, of course. You two would always get spotted together. He would casually sling his arm around your shoulder or lazily has his hand wrapped around your waist.

Favorite time to spend with you is training together. No matter how many times you’ve told him to “fight with an intent to win” he simply refuses— saying how, he’s “far too powerful” for you.

But deep down he just doesn’t want to hurt you…

Chatting in the middle of a training

“Tsunade-sama hasn’t assigned me any missions lately *throws kunai*” , “Maybe if you threw your kunai accurately, she will. *dodge kunai*” , “Kakashi, shut your pretty mouth up. *throws MORE kunai aggressively*”

When you turned him down while he was showing off his new tricks, though, it weirdly turned him on.

He loves someone powerful, with a right amount of cocky.

Doesn’t talk big. He’s a man of action— his action speaks louder than words!

Doesn’t spoil you that much, though. Because it’s actually him who needs to be spoiled.

Really loves it when you trace your fingers all over his skin— it’s intimately soft, he claimed.

LOVES YOUR SCENT. Has it memorized probably.

He’d prefer someone independent. Someone who could actually take care of themselves instead of relying on him completely. 

Anyone too childish would remind him of Team 7, tbh.

Speaking of Team 7, they would probably be the one to get introduced to you.

Naruto was so shocked to find out that his sensei was capable to develop a romantic feeling towards someone. But he had his doubt— do you really know Kakashi? He started to bombard you with questions to test your knowledge.

“So, do you know what’s Kakashi Sensei’s favorite—“ , “I’ve seen his face. Multiple times.” , “YOU WHAT?”

Complained and sulked about it, “Kakashi Sensei, we’ve trained together for years. How could you?!”

Sakura was confused.

“How? I know he’s probably very handsome under that mask but come on, Y/N, reading smut in public? That’s an absolute no.”

On the contrary, Sasuke was thrilled, internally.

“Yeah. Finally. Old man has someone to annoy besides us. About time.”

He has a pretty bad behavior, too. Unlike Gaara, who’d put an emotionless facade when he’s only in the Kazekage mode, Kakashi would treat you just how he feels like doing it that day. 

Let’s be real, he has so many bottled up feelings inside his heart so it’s not a surprise that someday, somehow, a random painful emotion just hit him— hard, and he shut himself out.

The hospital is the place you immediately visit right after Kakashi’s arrival after a mission because you know he’d be there— reading his book with a few bruises here and there. But this time was a bit different. When he’s hospitalized, he would whine about you not being able to stay more than an hour— but right now you’re puzzled, since he’s been completely silent and avoiding you, answering your questions with a mere shrugs.

Tsunade told you that the mission went pretty well, thanks to Kakashi for eliminating all the enemies on the field, singlehandedly. You automatically knew that it must brought up his past traumas. “Kakashi, it’s not your fault.” you decided to speak, earning a glance from Kakashi, but that’s it. “It’s a mission and you protected all of your comrades!”

“I killed them, Y/N. I didn’t have to, but I did.” he said, with his eyes still glued elsewhere. “Every time I look at my hands, I feel dirty. It reminded me of that—“, “Kakashi, look at me.”

You moved closer to his bed, reaching out your hand and traced your fingers softly on his face. His cheeks were cold, and you could clearly see how he was slightly trembling with teary eyes. “Kakashi, if you didn’t do it— it could’ve been your own comrades. Now they’re safe and sound, thanks to you.”, you paused as he slowly began to move his sight to you. “And if I could meet you way sooner, I would remind you every day that it’s never your fault— it’s never been. You’re a good person, Kakashi. I, and all of us, are forever thankful for the things you’ve done.” you whispered, now wiping a few tears that fell down to his cheeks. A weak smile started to bloom, “I’m forever thankful for you as well, Y/N.”

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Can’t get over her

Word count: 5010     

Genre: A little angst with a little fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader 

Warnings: Little bit of swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Summary: Reader has always had a bit of a crush on Natasha but it’s unrequited. She lets Tony and Wanda take her to a club and Nat starts acting differently.

A/N: This is not a request, I just felt like writing this story. I’m super nervous about this because I’m not sure if it’s very good but I thought I would post it in case anyone is interested. This is my first x reader fic and first Natasha/Marvel fic so I wasn’t sure how to write it. That being said I hope you enjoy, and if you do, I’m always open to take requests! Btw this is completely unimportant but even though this fic is a medium length, it’s the longest story I’ve actually completed so I feel proud of myself for that!

“Y/n!” A voice rang out loudly disrupting your sleep. 

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, “what do you want?” Instead of an answer the door to your room gets thrown open loudly, allowing all the light to come in. You bury yourself under the blankets, partly to stop your eyes from seeing the light and partly to hide the fact that you were wearing Avengers themed pyjamas. 

“Rise and shine sweetheart!” You hear Tony’s voice mock. Reluctantly you poke your head out of the blankets just enough so you can see and squint at your best friend/mentor just in time to see him rush off, probably to wake up another unfortunate avenger. When you first joined you never expected to like Tony at all, much less consider him your best friend or look up to him. You had heard rumors of him being inappropriate with women and while his jokes most certainly were and you did occasionally catch him staring at your boobs he never did anything creepy to make you uncomfortable and inside he was a good man, way more so than you expected.

All that in mind you decide to get out of bed to see why Tony woke you up because he (probably) wouldn’t wake you up for no reason. Taking a minute to change out of the avenger pyjamas and into some clothes as well as brush your hair you wander downstairs. On the way down you bump into Clint who unlike you has made absolutely no effort to look presentable and looks like he just rolled out of bed. You say a quick hello but he just grunts in return, not even looking at you. Inwardly laughing about how much Clint hates to be awake in the morning you continue downstairs to meet up with the rest of the avengers who are varying degrees of awake. Most seemed to be like you; awake and fairly alert but not happy about it. Clint was probably the most asleep and Tony the most awake considering he was practically bouncing off the walls. Looking around you see everyone except for Thor and Natasha. Thor wasn’t there very often because he wasn’t from earth and Natasha usually avoided group activities at all costs to your displeasure since you had a secret (not very secret) crush on the assassin. 

“So why did you wake us up, at an ungodly hour may I add, and bring us down here?” You ask Tony, curious.

“That information is above your clearance level.” He replies somewhat sarcastically. 

“Does anybody else know what is going on?” you ask. “Or did Tony wake me up for no reason, in which case I’m going back to bed.” They all shift guiltily on their feet except for Clint who seems to be still too tired to pay attention leading you to believe they are all up to something you wouldn’t like. Nobody answers your question so you glare around the room, your eyes landing on Steve. He almost squirms under your gaze and eventually seems to give in.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wasn’t my idea and thinking back on it we probably shouldn’t-”

“We are giving you a makeover and finding you a date.” Tony cuts Steve off.

“Seriously??!??!??” You half shout. “What makes you think I want to go on some random date you guys set up? If I want to go on a date I can find one myself.”

“Y/N…” Wanda says softly, reminding you to stay calm.

“Don’t Y/n me,” you say, still angrily yet quieter, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.” Tony gives a small snort of laughter in response to this.

“Sure you can kid. I mean it’s not like you haven’t been on a date in over two years. Or that you’re harboring a crush for our resident scary assassin that prevents you from dating others.” You glare at him but stay silent because all of what he said is true. In your head you excuse the not dating off as being busy because you are a hero yet almost everybody on the team is dating someone and it all seems to be working out fine.

“Look Y/n,” Tony says softly which is a rarity for him, “I know you wish something could happen between you and Romanoff but it hasn’t happened yet and likely never will. You need to get over her and back out there. Besides we weren’t planning on choosing your date for you, we were just planning to go clubbing later with you.”

“Ok,” you agree begrudgingly, “I’ll do it, I just don’t see the need to wake me up at 7 in the morning if we aren’t going out until tonight. Also does everybody need to be here right now?” 

“I second that,” Clint says in a voice still rough from sleep, “just because I helped planning a little bit does not mean I had to wake up early to have this conversation. I’m going back to bed.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes at him before turning to you, “No not everyone has to be here right now, Tony just got a little over excited. As for you, as we said we are giving you a makeover which means we have to go to the hair appointment I set up plus I was thinking we could go shopping since we almost never have time to. Besides Natasha gets back from her solo mission sometime later today, so we wanted to talk with you when she wasn’t around.”

“Ok,” you respond with a little bit of excitement, “when do we leave?”

“Right now! We can have brunch while we’re out!” 

“Yes and then we can go get our nails done and gossip!” Tony says in a fake voice. Both you and Wanda turn to look at him exasperated. “Ok fine, maybe not but I am coming and we are gossiping. Also I need to find a good birthday present for Pepper’s birthday next week.”

“Well that’s good you’re coming because unless you want the same reaction as last year, you’re going to need a lot of help.” Wanda replies. You laugh a little as the three of you leave the tower, Wanda and Tony continuing their mock argument about Tony’s gift giving skills. 

Five hours later and you severely regretted going along with their plan. You were already exhausted and still had so much to do before going clubbing. You had already bought an outfit plus a few others which wouldn’t be so bad except Wanda and Tony made you try on what you believed to be the whole store before they seemed satisfied with your look. You had also gotten your nails done and were currently finishing up a lovely brunch which consisted of waffles, maple syrup and some fruits. That would have been enjoyable if not for the fact that Tony and Wanda alternated between nagging you about not chipping a nail and teasing you about your pathetic love life. It was a well known fact in the tower that while they didn’t hate each other, Tony and Wanda didn’t usually get along well but that was probably for the best since together they were ruthless. They seemed to have decided that the time for brunch was over so sighing you followed them out of the restaurant after Tony paid the bill. That’s the one positive at least, all of it was free for you thanks to Tony. 

Another five hours later and you could honestly say you were looking forward to the night more than you thought you would. You were currently looking in the mirror in your room and although usually you tended to be indifferent towards your body, sometimes even insecure, you had to admit that you looked pretty hot. The dress was in the perfect colour to bring out your eyes according to Wanda and although it was the perfect balance between classy and slutty, revealing a bit of skin and showing off your assets while still leaving it to the imagination. You also were carrying a black purse which matched your nails and shoes. Your makeup was perfectly done, naturally showing you beauty but adding a little extra glimmer. The thing you were most proud of however and the most noticeable change you had made was your hair. Before you had hair that when completely straight could reach your waist but now it was barely long enough to tuck behind your ears. When you first got to the hair salon you were planning on just trimming it and straightening in it but when you got in the chair something came over you and you just decided to chop it all off. 

BANG! The door to your room barges open and Wanda comes flying in. 

“Damn girl! You look hot as fuck!” You blush profusely at her words managing to stammer out a thank you. You have never been good at taking compliments because you always get a little shy and awkward. 

Tony pokes his head around the doorframe and gives a whistle. “You are smoking hot Y/n, I mean if I didn’t have Pepper I would be all over you. You ready to go?” Not waiting for an answer he turns and starts towards the elevator. You follow but not before exchanging an eye roll with Wanda about Tony’s words. The elevator ride is short and smooth thanks to Tony’s engineering so you don’t have enough time to succumb to the urge of placing your hands on the bars and pushing while lifting your feet. The elevator beeps, Jarvis informing  you that you’ve reached the ground level and the doors open. You step out ready to get on with your night but the sight of Natasha just back from a mission freezes you in your tracks. 

“Hi,” you say lamely, “I thought you were supposed to get back earlier today?”

“We had some intel that wasn’t fully correct but luckily it didn’t take too long to fix. You look different, where are you heading off to?”

You glance at Tony and Wanda for help because for some reason you feel awkward telling her but they don’t seem to know what you want so you answer anyways. “We’re going clubbing, I’m kinda nervous since I haven’t been in awhile but Wanda helped me get ready-”

“Hey I helped too!”

You ignore Tony’s protest and continue to speak. “-and I think it should be fun. Also there will for sure be hot girls there which is always a plus.”  

“Seems like it should be fun,” she responds in her monotone ‘I don’t care’ voice that you hate, “Good luck with the girls though, because your hair looked better long, I don’t like it like this.” You don’t usually get offended easily but you feel tears spring to your eyes at her comment. The only good part is that she doesn’t notice because she’s already walking away, swaying her hips, either not knowing or caring that she hurt you.

Tony and Wanda rush over to you. “Oh sweetie,” Wanda comforts while wrapping an arm around you, “don’t listen to her, that’s not true at all!”

“Then why would she say it?” You ask, careful to keep your voice from cracking because you hated showing when you were upset.

“I don’t know and honestly I don’t give a fuck.” Tony replies. “Just don’t think about it too much, the whole point of this night is to get over her anyways.” You give him a small smile at that. Tony is good with words which translates into being good at comforting people. You know he’s right so although the comment is still upsetting you do your best to push it out of your mind. Locking arms with both Tony and Wanda you pull them towards the door and into the waiting limo. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Tony ruffled your hair as you stepped in or how Wanda kept running her fingers over her arm in an attempt to be reassuring. You had the best friends. 

The ride over seemed way shorter than it was supposed to be and before you knew it the limo was stopped to let the three of you out. You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress before smiling and stepping out after Tony and Wanda. Nobody seems to have noticed the three of you yet which was a good thing. Being Avengers Tony and Wanda were pretty much celebrities and often got swarmed by groups of fans. Technically you were an avenger as well but like Natasha and Clint it was only because you were a Shield so while you did get recognized it wasn’t as often and only tended to happen if you were with other avengers. You make your way inside, splitting from Tony and Wanda at the door. The plan was for them to go to the bar and look over you from there while you went straight to the dance floor because you preferred to be anonymous tonight and they would ruin that and also you didn’t feel like getting drunk. That was the plan at least but you suspected that they would get too drunk to continue watching over you because it had been stressful lately with a lot of paperwork and they needed to unwind. Wanda had practically confirmed that fact when she gave you permission to leave without them. 

You step over to the dance floor glancing around to see if there looked to be any single women already there. The reason you had chosen this club was because although it wasn’t lgbtq+ exclusive, it was open to everybody and therefore frequented by many members of the community. 

Just as you were glancing around you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Wanna dance?” You spin around to find the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, apart from Natasha. It bothers you that you’re using Natasha as your standard and comparing other girls to her but you brush that off. 

“I would love to!” At your response she takes your hand, pulling you into the crowd and starts to dance. You dance as well and slowly you lose track of time as you loosen up and your dancing with the girl becomes less and less innocent. You can feel yourself caring less about what Natasha thought although as great as this girl seemed to be you knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so you hoped she wasn’t looking for one. After what could be a couple of hours because you’ve completely lost track of time, you and the girl whose name you still don’t know head over to a corner of the room and take a seat on two of the stools that were provided. 

“Hi, I feel like I should know your name by now, I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself. 

“Wait I thought you looked familiar!” She exclaims. “You’re the Y/n that’s a part of the avengers right?” 

You awkwardly give a nod and gesture towards the bar where you can see Tony and Wanda who have obviously had at least a few drinks each. “Tony and Wanda came with me. They are just over there but I didn’t particularly want the spotlight tonight so I split from them at the door.” 

“I understand, I must admit I have no desire to be famous. I’m Jamie by the way” She says with a cute little giggle before her mood seems to be more solemn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a literal avenger and if my friends find out they are going to kill me but I’m sorry if you’re looking for a relationship but I just got out of a serious relationship and am not ready for another one quite yet.” 

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not looking for a relationship either, because I’m trying to get over my feelings for a friend.” 

“Phew!” She replies. “But tell me more about this ‘friend’ of yours.” You take a minute to think before deciding that Jamie could be trusted. You begin to spill all about your feelings for Natasha and how she didn’t seem interested and what she said to you on your way here. Jamie listens sympathetically the entire time before telling you all about how she thought her ex was the one but it turns out she was emotionally abusive. Even though you just met you talk like old friends, offering advice on serious topics but also chatting about random things. You have 3 more drinks each and after every drink your barriers crumble more and more. Eventually you exchange numbers so you can meet up again although you both agreed it would be a platonic meetup. Just as you were giggling about a joke you couldn’t even remember, you saw Jamie tense up and a second later you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turn your head in anger expecting it to be some creepy guy trying to hit on you but it turns to confusion when you see Natasha. 

“Can we talk?” She asks, giving Jamie a dirty look. “At the tower. Without her.” 

“Why?” You ask. “I’m having fun here Nat.” You specifically say her name as you speak so Jamie knows who you’re talking to. 

“Just come home.” She says not answering your question, instead tugging at your wrist lightly. You sigh not knowing what to do so you glance at Jamie for help. 

She shrugs and then says, “I have a ride home planned if you want to leave, but I wouldn’t mind staying longer if that’s what you want.”

You make a quick decision in your head before responding, “Ok, we’ll go back to the tower but there better be a good reason.” You then turn to Jamie, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and then we can figure out when to hang out.”

“Of course,” she agrees leaning forwards to hug you while whispering in your ear, “good luck but remember not to let her treat you badly just because you’re in love with her.” You pull back from the hug and smile at her as Natasha’s hand moves down to your own as she starts walking, pulling you along with her. You can barely think straight, you have no idea what is going on with Natasha or why she’s acting so weirdly. You glance over to Tony and Wanda to see if they’ve noticed what’s going on but just as you suspected they were drunk out of their minds. If they were normal friends you would have worried about them but you knew Tony’s drivers would get them home safe because although Tony was more responsible with Pepper around this was not the first time they’ve had to haul his drunk ass back to the tower. 

Natasha continues to pull you out the door and over to her parked motorcycle where she hands you a helmet and one of her leather jackets. Still not speaking she hops on and motions for you to get on behind her. You swing your leg over the side somewhat awkwardly and scoot forwards so you can grab onto her waist. Once she’s sure you’re secured properly she hits the gas, the motorcycle roaring as it starts. You’ve never been on her motorcycle before so at first you are a bit nervous but after a couple of minutes you start to feel more comfortable. At this point your only nerves come from holding Natasha and wondering what she wants to talk to you about and not the motorcycle ride. Compared to the ride over to the club, this ride feels like it’s taking forever as you start to go over all the important reasons Nat would want to talk to you. You still didn’t know how to feel about everything because she insulted you earlier and now is making you feel important. To protect your feelings you tell yourself that there is probably a mission or a meeting that came up last minute and this isn’t just Natasha wanting to talk. It’s improbable because if that was the case she would have outright said so but you can’t think of any more plausible reasons off the top of your head. Luckily before you can analyze her strange behavior anymore you reach the tower and after parking underground you follow Natasha upstairs into the main living area which is obviously deserted as it is now between 3 and 4 am. 

“So why did you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the silence as you take a seat on the couch. 

“Why did you go to a club?” She asks, also sitting down on the other end of the couch, avoiding your question. 

A surge of anger floods through you and while you don’t shout, you raise your voice a little. “Answer the fucking question Nat. Or did you bring me all the way back just to ask that?” 

She looks somewhat surprised that you raised your voice but she keeps hers even. “I just wanted to know. It looked like you were having fun with whoever that girl is.” 

“Yeah I was.” You respond, still confused. “But how do you know that?” 

Natasha avoids eye contact looking everywhere but you. “I was watching you.” 

“YOU WERE WHAT?” You shout before lowering your voice to avoid waking up the whole tower. “Why the fuck were you spying on me?”  

“I- I wasn’t.” She replies seemingly caught off guard by your tone of voice. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.” 

“Tony and Wanda were with me.” You respond confused. There’s something she’s not telling you that’s making her act weird. She knew you could handle yourself so she obviously was not telling the truth, or at least omitting details. She hasn’t responded to your last statement, instead choosing to look at you in the weird way she does that makes you feel like you’re being interrogated. You decide that if she isn’t going to talk, you won’t either so you pull your phone out of your jacket to check it. You see a text from Jamie saying she got home ok with a little smiley face at the end that causes you to smile. You type back a quick reply, just saying you’re glad she’s safe and that you were with Natasha right now and were probably going to bed soon so you’d text her tomorrow. She wished you luck and goodnight with another little smiley face that made you smile again. Putting your phone away you look back up at Natasha only to find out she’s glaring at you. 

Unsure of what could have changed her attitude towards you, you ask, “What?”

“Who were you talking to?” She asks ignoring your question for the second time tonight. 

You sigh, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but if you really must know I was just saying goodnight to the girl from the club, Jamie.”

“So that’s her name.” She says wrinkling her nose. Now you’re really confused as to what Natasha is thinking. You couldn’t tell on normal days but usually she acted rationally and never was like this. 

“Why do you say it like that?” You ask. 

“I don’t like her.”

“Why don’t you like her?” 

“I just don’t.” She answers, offering no explanation. Although you do want to find out why Natasha doesn’t like her you’re too tired to spend the time asking questions so you stand up to go to bed. 

“Where are you going?” She demands. 

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time of the night. “I’m going to bed. You wanted to talk to me but won’t actually talk, and when I ask you questions, instead of responding you insult my new friend.”

“Friend?” She questions.

“Jamie.” You say confused because you thought the answer was obvious. 

“Oh.” She responds, “I’m sorry, please stay.” You think about it for a second, deciding to stay so you go to sit down again, but before you do Natasha scoots over to your end of the couch pulling you down into her side. Your entire body freezes up because you’re so unsure of what to do. Natasha never initiated physical contact of any kind but now she was practically hugging you. Seeming to realize how uncomfortable you were, she quickly moves away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “That was stupid.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you can come back.” You respond quickly. As much as you were uncomfortable, it felt really nice to have her by your side. She somewhat shyly shifts back over to you but this time instead of wrapping her arm around your shoulders she nuzzles into your side, maneuvering your arms so they wrap around her. You have no idea what’s going on right now but you can’t help but smile as you look down at her. She looks cute and relaxed, with her hair covering parts of her face. Thinking about her hair reminds you of her opinion of your new haircut. You bite your lip nervously as you debate asking her about that or not. You definitely don’t want to ruin the cuddly mood that she’s in now but the comment still bothers you, not to mention you never actually found out why she took you home from the club.

“Um Natasha?” You ask in a timid voice. “Is my haircut really that bad?” 

“Of course not, I think it suits you.” She responds smoothly. “I lied to you earlier.”

You smile at that. “Thank you but why?”

She takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “Promise this won’t change anything between us first, that we will stay friends.” 

“Ok,” You respond, earnest but confused, “I promise.”

“I didn’t like the idea of you going clubbing and coming home with some one night stand or even worse a girlfriend because I have feelings for you. So I was childish and took out my frustrations on you by pretending I didn’t like you. I’m sorry.” She’s looking up at you now, the most nervous you’ve ever seen her. Your mind is exploding with this new information and your heart feels so happy you can’t even believe what is going on. 

“Is that why you were watching me with Jamie at the club and then told me you had to talk to me?”

“Yeah”

After a few more seconds of shocked silence that feels like hours to Natasha you finally speak. “I know I promised that this wouldn’t change anything between us but I don’t think it can be the same.” She starts to pull away from your side but before she can you lean over and press your lips against hers. At first you are hesitant but once she starts kissing back you gain confidence, the kiss getting more heated. After a minute or two you both pull away to catch your breath, smiling at each other. 

Natasha lightly swats you on the arm. “You’re evil.” You giggle a little in response. “I was so worried for a second there, I thought you would be weirded out by that.” She continues also giggling slightly. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that I had feelings for you,” you confess to her, “it was actually Tony and Wanda’s idea for me to go out because we all thought you didn’t like me so they thought it was a good idea to get over you.”

“Well that plan failed,” she says smirking, “I guess you can’t get over me.” 

You look at her and yawn. “No I guess I can’t.” 

At your yawn she glances at the clock. “We better get you to bed, it’s almost the time Steve wakes up for training.” You would like to spend more time with Natasha but you’re too tired to argue so you just nod and follow her as she pulls you up and leads you to your room, holding your hand the whole way. Inside your room she sits on your bed while you change, politely looking away. Once you’re in pyjamas you hold a pair out to her and she looks at you confused. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” You ask her. She eagerly nods, accepting the pyjamas as you open your covers and crawl into bed. As soon as she’s done she turns off the lights and hops in behind you, spooning you. You sigh as you feel her plant a kiss on the back of your head. You can barely keep your eyes open and although you still haven’t talked about exactly what your new relationship with Natasha was yet, you were excited for what was to come. Your last thought before you drifted off to sleep was complete bliss as Natasha kept planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, head and shoulders. 

The next morning you hear a loud pounding at your door. You groan and slowly gain consciousness, smiling as you remember last night and the redhead still cuddling you. Just like yesterday Tony doesn’t bother to wait for you to answer and instead barges straight in. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you spooning and he starts to splutter. You laugh at him with Natasha until he shouts for the other avengers to come. Multiple pairs of footsteps make your way to your bedroom and you see the shocked faces of a few of the other avengers, including Wanda, Steve and Clint. 

“What,” Natasha says speaking up, “can’t a girl cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Steve immediately apologizes, ushering everyone out of the room and closing the door. 

You raise your eyebrow. “Girlfriends?”

“I assumed so, if you want.” She responds. 

“I like the sound of that...girlfriend.” You both smile at each other. You definitely did not complete your goal of getting over Natasha and instead fell further in love but you were totally ok with that.

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: xiao x gn reader

req: no | wc: 1.3k | cw: mention of dead parent | modern au

a/n: writing my desires. also this fic is not very romantic. req a part two, maybe?

Chinese streetwear is far from ‘normal’. People are free to wear whatever they want, so that means there are plenty of people wearing different clothes.

Techwear is not strange in streetwear, in fact, it’s a frequent sight.

So, when your eyes spot him, why do they stay on him?

He wears techwear, black as always, but largely accented with a sort of turquoise-green you can’t describe. Aside from that, his outfit isn’t following any type of color scheme. His pearl necklace is accented by fuchsia tassels, his belt is lilac, and his bag is a pinkish purple. Yet, amidst all that, he manages to squeeze a few red tassels around his belt and bag. And his hair, god, his hair, is highlighted by the same turquoise-green.

All this paired together is somehow beautiful. The concept sounds like an assault to your eyes, but for some reason they suit him.

The mysterious man catches your eyes. His eyes are a piercing gold, a color you’ve never seen in anybody else’s eyes. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, but thankfully he does it for you.

Before you know it, he’s slipped into an alleyway and away from your prying gaze.

You’d like to say you never thought of him after that, that he was just another beautiful individual in the fashion-filled streets of China. Though if you were to say that, you’d be lying.

The man was at the forefront of your mind. He stood out amongst the crowd, in a way that other people didn’t - even those wearing full monarch outfits or revealing clothes.

He was simple and outstanding at the same time.

The second time you see him is at an abandoned building, one far from the first time. Abandoned buildings were few and far between in China. They were thrilling to explore, giving you an opportunity to learn about its history and abandonment.

This particular building has no story. It is merely abandoned, windows broken, floors entirely emptied, and walls vastly painted. The only reason you stayed was to admire the graffiti, and perhaps paint some of your own.

But, as you neared an empty spot, you heard the familiar sound of compressed air from spray paint cans.

The closer you got, the more it smelled of toxicity, though you were used to it.

When you finally find the source, it’s him again. The man that recently plagued your mind. Upon hearing footsteps, he turns, and you spot a mask over his face.

Just as you thought he couldn’t get more interesting.

Its bulging eyes, sharp horns, and attention catching horns would be scary if you hadn’t seen the face behind the cover. Still, his silence is what’s most intimidating to you.

“He-” Right as you’re about to greet him, his phone rings.

He uses it as an excuse to take his exit, leaving behind an unfinished masterpiece. As he walks farther from you, you only catch a small tidbit of his conversation, “What is it that you need, Zhongli?”

You know of a man with that name, an old yet youthful Funeral Consultant. Except the man you knew as Zhongli was immensely different from the one you just saw.

Zhongli was full of conversations, compared to the one that’s only been followed by silence. His style resembled his career, scholarly and tranquil. You don’t know why two people on polar ends would be related to each other, so you brushed it off as a coincidence.

You finally focus on the art he left behind. For some reason, he signs his masterpieces before finishing them, but it’s quite lucky for you.

“Xiao.” You read as you trace over the signature. “Demon.”

The third, and final time you see each other as strangers, is quite conveniently at the convenience store.

It’s 3 am, you can’t sleep; and from the deep bags under his eyes, you conclude that he can’t either.

The bond between two strangers inside a convenience store at the most ungodly hours of night is odd. The fact you’re both there, with seemingly no objective, forms bonds between you two. You end up talking about your troubles on the curb, sitting on your car’s trunk, or perhaps some other place.

Between the two of you, it’s the latter option.

He speaks up first as the cashier checks out his items. “Xiao, you?”

“(y/n), got any hideouts?” He nods, you nod, it’s a silent agreement to hang out somewhere, wherever his hideout is.

When you leave the establishment, walking close to each other like you’ve known each other for ages, he gestures to the turquoise-green motorcycle. “Let’s go.”

You don’t know why you follow him. He’s a stranger, the only detail you know about him is his name. Yet, even with his scary mask and piercing golden eyes, he feels trustworthy.

His hideout is a roof whose stairwell door needs to be lock picked. Xiao, however, is prepared; he opens the door as if he’s done so a million times before, a speculation you can’t rule out.

The building is tall, tall enough that it is not overshadowed by any other building. The moonlight bathes over your figures, and despite the light pollution, the night sky is wonderful. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Xiao seems so comfortable here. A smile graces his face, though it’s wiped off as quick as it forms.

“Yeah.”

He sits on a sleeping bag and offers you the spot next to him.

He’s close, awfully close, as you both begin to dig into your recently bought goods. He opens his can of monster, you open yours, you clink the drinks together and begin to sip.

Despite the fact it feels as if you know everything about each other, you clearly don’t, so you grasp the only subject you can think of; the only subject that you think you might have in common. “You know a Zhongli?”

“Yes,” He doesn’t know what possesses him to reveal details of his personal life. “my adoptive father. Funeral consultant.”

"Yeah, I know him." He takes note of how… sad you sound. "He comforted me when my parent died." Whatever was making him open up was doing the same thing to you.

He raises his can for you to clink it again. When you do, he can see it lightens your mood.

"I saw you at that abandoned building, very far from here. Why were you there?"

He nods, "I like exploring. There's barely anything to explore in the heart of the city, so nothing's stopping me from going elsewhere. I hotel hop but I always seem to come back to Wangshu Hotel, it feels like home."

You nod solemnly, he has a feeling he knows what you're about to say. I don't have a home. Before you can, he clears his throat. "What about you?"

"I like exploring too." You don't elaborate further but he doesn't push.

When he looks at you again, you take his breath away. The moonlight accentuates your best features, making you part of its beautiful landscape. Thank God you were looking at the sky, or else you would've caught his awestruck look. Finally, he notices the bare skin and shudder of your shoulders.

When you look at him again, it's because he taps your shoulder. In his gloved hand is his coat, fortunately he still wears a jacket.

"Thanks." His coat is warm, as warm as you imagine his embrace would be.

You talk about many things that night, topics that strangers shouldn't talk about. But, as 3 am 7/11 relationships go, you're not strangers for long.

3 am turns into 4, then 5, then the sun rises. By that time, you’re extremely tired. The sleeping bag no longer cushions your seat and your back becomes terribly aware of the concrete wall it rests on.

You’re exhausted, though the caffeine still pumps through your system. Sleep is far from the horizon, but a comfortable environment wouldn’t hurt.

“Do you want to.. come to my hotel room? Wangshu Hotel?” Xiao’s room would feel far closer to a home than your own apartment did.

“Sure.”

[mayaree-darling]

Gojo Satoru Headcanon: Physical Affection

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GenderNeutral!Reader

A/N: Okay. So. I watched Jujutsu Kaisen during breaks from school. And I shit you not I found myself reading the manga after episode 10 and I caught up to 132 chapters in two days OuO. I needed more Gojo Satoru in my life. This was supposed to be a dating headcanon piece but I ended up pushing that idea for another day because I ran wild with this idea. (For those waiting for more KnY pieces, they’re in the making don’t worry. I’m just pushing out as much writing as I can to kick myself back into gear).

Warnings: Occasional swearing. Completely SFW

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

Okay so I can get behind the sex god headcanons for our favorite sensei (coz I am a fan of that shit, too)

But hear me out y’all - Gojo Satoru who isn’t used to physical affection

This is the guy who always has an invisible shield up and canonically cannot be touched unless he initiates it

There aren’t a lot of people to touch either (jujutsu families don’t seem to be the most loving)

Bro may be hesitant of getting close to anyone, too, almost as much as he wants to be. He’s lost so much. It’s gotta be hard being alone on the top.

So when y’all start going out you’re a bit surprised when Gojo seems even more reluctant when it comes to touching

And I don’t even mean the kind you should be keeping behind closed doors

Bro jumped and practically ran off when you grabbed on to his shirt when you almost lost him in a crowded street. Meaning - you ended up literally losing him to the crowd. (He apologizes and makes an excuse later on)

You’re a bit confused and hurt ngl coz??? y’all are dating now but suddenly he’s shying away?

There are moments you wonder if he’s become distant because that’s it, you’re going out already - no need to show off for the object of his affections if they’re already his, but you just as quickly brush off that idea.

He wasn’t like that. That wasn’t the man you fell for.

The man you fell for was a silly little shit whose personality can only be explained by the amount of sweets he eats and confidence for his abilities stacked over the years

It took a while to realize that something so normal would have evaded his life nor how he didn’t exactly know how to react to that now

You didn’t realize until you woke up at an ungodly hour in the night to, surprise surprise, Gojo’s snoring

He had left earlier that day on some important business halfway across the country so you weren’t expecting him back so soon

But this was Gojo Satoru we were walking about, and he was called strongest for a reason

“Toru?” what completely wakes you up is your inability to move. Hearing Gojo’s breathing at the very least calmed you down enough for you to wait for your eyes to adjust in the dark.

When the drowsiness clears up, the first thing you notice is how uncomfortable your position felt. Maybe it was the mattress or maybe it was the fact that Gojo has most likely tried to pull you to lay on his chest but stopped halfway through from exhaustion

So here you were, half your back pressed to his chest and the other half of your body crushing Gojo’s arm wrapped around your waist and stopping you from completely lying on the bed.

His other arm was preoccupied intertwining your hands together

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t delay waking him up to bask in the feeling of holding your hands together

You reach for the night light switch with your free hand and almost immediately when the lights open, Gojo shifts. You have a split second of hindsight when you hear him groan and he retracts his hand from yours  

He was sleeping. He wouldn’t have his blindfold on.

Fuck, did you just blind the Six Eyes sorcerer?

“S-Satoru…?” you were pretty terrified to turn around, but considering your hadn’t been vaporized by his infinity, you turn to face him

One eye was still underneath his blindfold, but just like the half-assed attempt in pulling you close to him, the other was already open and staring at you blearily

You wait for him to push you away or something, but instead of that, he smiles at you, taking off his blindfold completely

“Good morning, Sunspot. Atleast, that’s what I wanna say, but,” he finally lets go of you, stretching his limbs. “Doesn’t look like it’s morning yet. What time is it, anyway?”

“Uh, around 4 AM, I think. What time did you get here?”

“Pretty sure it was a bit past midnight. An old lady on the bullet train told me it was bad to eat mochi as a midnight snack.”

He turns back to you with the laid back smile you’ve come to love. Gojo adjusts in his position, lying down on his side to face you and pulls you flush against his chest.

“Go back to sleep, Sunspot. We can eat more mochi in the morning.”

He yawns one more time, makes sure you’re as close as possible before closing his eyes. You blink once and he was already fast asleep

You snuggle closer to him, basking in his warmth, completely forgetting to remind him that he didn’t even live with you, because whatever doubts you felt earlier were pushed away from here in your place between his arms

Atleast, that feeling lasted ‘til the morning

You were abruptly woken up at the feeling of being roughly pushed

Your eyes snapped open to find Gojo holding you at arm’s reach, his eyes are blown as wide as yours, if not wider

“Ah, shit, Sunspot, I, uh…” he stares at you blankly for a beat longer, eyes shifting to his hands holding on to your shoulders, before his eyes snapped back to yours, very much awake.

Before you know it, you were lying back down on the bed, alone.

You raise your head in time to see Gojo’s outstretched hand waving at you from outside your room

“Sorry for barging in on you, Sunspot. There’s mochi in your fridge. See you at school. Bye!” “Satoru, wait-!”

Well. There goes your boyfriend.

You would’ve thought badly about him leaving so abruptly

But waking up to the sight of the usually calm and laidback Gojo Satoru’s blushing face - completely red they clashed with the blue of his eyes - was something you’d treasure for the rest of your life

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

A/N: ah, so, if this felt like it was cut short - that’s because it was. I realized halfway through I had a working plot for a whole fic now so yeah. I’m gonna make a whole fic for this AHHAHAH consider this a teaser, if you will.

✨ Masterlist ✨

🌙 Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part I

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings; Rating: Minor angst at the end; General

Premise: Ethan and MC are living in a honeymoon bliss and going about their normal routine. Then something happens that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: New series comin' at ya! This is my first time writing fluff, so please excuse me if it's cringey 😅 Thank you to @choiceskatie for pre-reading!! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 7:00am ~

“Good morning, handsome.”

Serena walks up to an omelette-making Ethan, wraps her arms around his waist, and places a gentle kiss on his shoulder blade.

Ethan places one hand over hers, a smile spreading across his face, while the other wields a spatula.

He plates the omelette, turns the stove off, and turns in Serena’s arms to face her. He tightly envelops her, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Good morning, indeed,” he smiles.

“Mmm, that’s my line,” she says, her hands moving leisurely up his bare chest, and her eyes trailing hungrily over his gym-honed physique.

Ethan lets out a hearty chuckle, turning slightly to grab their breakfast.

“As much as I’d love to take you back to bed," he gives her a quick peck, "you have a big day ahead of you, so,” he hands her a plate, “actual protein.”

“Buzzkill,” Serena pouts as she takes the ham, cheese, and veggie omelette from him. Ethan shakes his head in amusement and places one hand on her lower back to guide her towards the dining room table.

“For now, but in 10 hours…” he raises an eyebrow and smirks at her.

“10 hours and not a minute more,” she responds, sitting down, and giving him a stern look.

He laughs again. Something he’s been doing a lot more of since she came into his life. “Yes, baby.”

That seems to please Serena as she smiles and does a little wiggle in her chair, cutting into her omelette.

His apartment overlooks the glittering Charles River and the towering Boston skyline — a view people would kill for. But he’s not paying attention. His eyes are trained on the woman next to him. His t-shirt falls to her mid-thighs, her midnight hair tied at the nape of her neck, and the dainty gold necklace she never takes off is brilliant in the early morning glow. Serena shifts slightly and the faint smell of sunscreen wafts towards him.

“SPF on the face is important!” He grins at the memory.

She spends most of her time at Ethan's place nowadays. It's more private, compared to her shared apartment, and there's more space for them to sprawl out and be a couple. They cook dinner together, with Ethan learning to make her favorite dishes and incessantly asking her to taste test to ensure he gets the flavor right. They've made loading the dishwasher and walking Jenner into a two person job. He's even caught her stashing away some of his clothes in her overnight bag before: "I'm borrowing them!"

On the off nights when she insists on staying at her place to catch up on laundry or spend time with her friends, Ethan goes home to a dark and unwelcoming apartment. There is no source of laughter, light, or warmth. He never noticed it before, but now, Serena is his source of all of that, and more. Home is wherever she is.

How did I get so lucky?

“Why aren’t you eating?” Her head is tilted to the side and her brows are slightly furrowed.

Her question brings him out of his trance. He stares at her for a beat, his azure eyes filled with adoration. “Just admiring the view.”

Serena rolls her eyes and goes to playfully smack his arm, but he catches it. Interlaces their fingers and brings it to his lips. Her eyes soften as they gaze at each other.

“I could get used to mornings like this, you know," he rumbles.

"Yeah?"

He nods his head. "Yeah. I love spending them with you."

"The feeling is mutual, Dr. Ramsey." She leans in, stopping a hair's breadth away from his lips. "But I gotta get ready for my big day now," she says with a glint in her eye.

Ethan tries, and fails, to catch her lips with his own as she leans away and gets up from the table. "You're such a tease."

"Am I? Or are you just getting slow in your old age?" She playfully retorts.

Ethan stands abruptly from the table, chasing after her. Serena squeals in surprise and takes off towards the ensuite.

~ 7:40am ~

Ethan is leaning against the doorframe, arms and feet crossed, admiring Serena as she applies the finishing touches to her makeup.

"How many times are you going to stare at me today?" Serena questions.

He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to her. "As many times as you'll allow Rookie."

He hugs her waist. "Are you ready for today?"

Serena sighs and leans back into him. "I'm a little nervous. If testing doesn't go well today, we'll have to start from scratch. All our work, gone."

For the past few months, Serena has been consulting on a classified research project headed by scientists and engineers at Harvard University. The team was incredibly impressed with her capabilities, shown in saving Dr. Banerji's life and being the 2nd youngest member of the renowned Edenbrook Diagnostics Team, and liked that she provided a younger perspective. They brought her on and Ethan makes the 15 minute detour to drop her off three times a week.

"You all are ready. It will go great."

She locks eyes with him in the mirror. "Thank you, E."

~ 8:15am ~

Ethan puts the car in park, turns on his hazards, and turns to look at her.

"I can't wait to hear all about how today was an absolute success. You don't need it, but good luck." He squeezes her hand.

She nods. "Only 8 hours and 45 minutes left."

"And not a minute more," he smiles at her before leaning in to kiss her.

Ethan pulls away first, not wanting her to be late, but Serena continues to go back in for more soft kisses. After the sixth one, she finally pulls away smiling. She opens the car door, swings her legs out, and walks through the secured entrance.

~ 11:00am ~

The Diagnostics Team currently has no patients, so Ethan's morning is mundane, filled with meetings and endless paperwork. He itches to call Serena to break up the monotony, but knows she won't have her phone on her until lunch: no cell phones allowed in the lab. He settles on sending her a quick text — it'll be waiting for her. He pulls up their messaging thread, sends the text, and his eyes wander upward to see the remnants of their last conversation.

She had gotten, and dressed, Jenner in a new bow tie. She then blew up Ethan's phone with photos of Jenner, photos of her and Jenner, and even a few where she was wearing one of Ethan's bow ties to match.

"Look, we're twins!!"

Ethan re-scrolls through all of the photos and can't help the smile that lights up his face at how excited she gets about a small accessory for his dog. God, I love her.

There it is again, Ethan thinks. The 3 words and 8 letters that he never thought he'd feel, let alone want to voice. This feeling has become overwhelming in the past few weeks. He's reminded of it whenever he inhales the lingering scent of her perfume in the office, when he finds one of her forgotten face products at his place, the small moments they share when she sneaks away to visit him, "just because." It consumes him and makes his heart swell.

But he knows she's been extremely stressed with project duties, on top of handling the Diagnostics Team and regular patients. It just doesn't seem right to blurt it out when she's juggling so many things. But if all goes well, her portion of the project ends on Thursday and she'll be back to her normal workload. That's why he's been secretly making romantic plans for this weekend, not only to celebrate her success, but to also finally tell her how he feels. He wants the first time he utters those words to her to be special. Magical. Extraordinary. Just like her.

Just then, his pager beeps and he's pulled out of his second Serena trance of the day. He sets his phone down on the table, pulls out his pager, and is met with a message from Dr. Delarosa, asking for a consult. Just as he exits through the door, his phone lights up with a photo of Serena and her incoming call.

~ 2:15pm ~

The consultation with Ines turned into admitting the patient under the Diagnostics Team and the rest of the afternoon was spent running through possible diagnoses. Before he knew it, it had been over 3 hours and Ethan hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. He can't help but think how much easier this case would be with Serena here and her perspective. Not only does her presence help keep him calm, but she always comes up with suggestions that would inevitably lead to the correct diagnosis. He throws his glasses on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He begins to stand, wanting to make his way to his desk, intending to call Serena on the off chance she picks up. However, before he's even able to reach his full height, Dr. Banerji walks in.

"My boy, are you busy?"

"No. Am I needed somewhere?"

Naveen looks at him for a beat too long, causing Ethan's confusion to spike. Naveen walks to the center table and switches on the TV. There, panning around the screen is an aerial view of the Harvard University lab complex, surrounded by police cars and SWAT members, as well as multiple aircraft. In bold letters, scrolling endlessly across the bottom of the screen is: Possible attack at Harvard University labs. On lockdown.

Ethan gawks at the screen with wide eyes and his pulse immediately picks up.

"Isn't Serena at Harvard labs today?"

~~~~~~

Disclaimer: I know Ethan starts his day and gets to the hospital at an ungodly hour, but let's ignore that bc I am my MC is not a morning person 😅

[fanficsfromyesteryear]

PARASITE

A STRANGER THINGS ONE SHOT

— PAIRING: Billy Hargrove x Reader — WORD COUNT: 879 — WARNINGS: Cursing, mentions of abuse — REQUESTED BY: N/A — A/N: This is just something to help me get back into writing. It’s been a hot minute lol. I know it’s short and a little different from the other stuff I’ve done, but it’s the way that I usually write outside of tumblr, so I thought I’d try it out here and see how it does. Please don’t come for me over the lack of dialogue. I thought this was a cute idea and really liked how it turned out. Anyway, hope you guys like it, too!!

Billy listened to the sound of his father’s heavy footfalls as they retreated down the hallway. The rattling of glass bottles signaled that the refrigerator door had been yanked open, followed by the clanking of beer cans. Billy buried his face into the pillow on his bed to hide the tears streaming down his cheeks in case his dad decided to make a second appearance in his room that night.

As much as Billy hated to admit it, he wished that Max was home. Neil was never quite as violent when she was around. As his dad liked to put it, “It’s up to the men of the house to set a good example.” What bullshit. What about being a good dad for me?

Billy shoved that thought into the back of his mind as soon as it pushed itself to the surface. If he couldn’t have a good mom, then he didn’t need a shitty dad to take her place. I don’t need anyone.

That wasn’t true, of course. He needed you.

Billy had always prided himself on the strong sense of independence he’d developed after his mom had left. He looked out for himself first and kept others at bay. He made up excuses as to why this was the case—“They’re not good enough for me,” and “I’m not gonna stick around here long enough to make friends,” were two of his favorites—but the real reason was that he was scared. He’d lost the person he cared for the most, and he couldn’t bear for that to happen again. You were different, though. He’d never planned on letting you past the walls he’d built up, but somehow, you’d managed to weasel your way into his stone-cold heart and had made a home there. You were like a safe haven—you provided a space where he could be vulnerable without fear of judgment or fighting, but that scared him, too. He was becoming too dependent on you to always be there to make things better, but was that such a bad thing?

Yes, he could hear his dad say. You’re being weak. Stop it.

Billy rolled over on the mattress, and his eyes fell on the picture of you he had taped to his mirror. You looked so happy that, even though you weren’t there with him, he could almost feel the warmth your smile radiated.

Usually, when his dad got like this, Billy would retreat to your house, where you would kiss him until the bruises his father had left behind were no longer discernible from the smudges of your lipstick, but he couldn’t. Not this time. It was winter break, and your parents had surprised you with a trip to the mountains, leaving him here alone in Shithole, Indiana, and that was fine. It should’ve been fine. How could he possibly expect you to be ready and waiting with open arms every time he got his feelings hurt?

And yet Billy did. He knew it was unfair to you, but he couldn’t help it. He was like your personal, little parasite. Once upon a time, you had been the one following him around like a lost puppy, but somewhere down the line, the tables had turned.

Billy tore his gaze from the picture of you stuck to his mirror and turned onto his back. He listened out for any movement from his father, but all he heard was silence. It wasn’t a comforting silence, though. It was the sort that could be broken at any moment with fresh fits of rage, and that was the last thing that Billy wanted. So, he left.

It was nearing three in the morning when Billy finally pulled the Camaro off the road and into the parking lot of a gas station. It was closed, and he wondered if he’d get sent away for trespassing—something that often happened when the local cops were just as bored as he was—but he didn’t let the thought plague him too much. He had no idea where he was—another small town in the middle of nowhere—but it was beyond his father’s reach, so he was content to stop and rest for a while. Billy would go back to Hawkins in the morning, but right now, he needed a little peace with his quiet.

Billy didn’t remember ever falling asleep, but when he opened his eyes again, the sun was peeking at him from behind a curtain of clouds the color of cotton candy. Billy smiled. You would’ve loved this view. Although he didn’t always appreciate it at that moment, you were always waking him up at ungodly hours of the morning to watch the sunrise, but it wasn’t until now that he understood why. It was beautiful, yes, but it was a fresh start. Maybe today would be different. Maybe the spirit of Christmas would finally consume his father, and Billy wouldn’t have to face Neil’s wrath for the rest of winter break.

Who am I kidding?

When Billy got back, he knew nothing would change. It would be the same old Hawkins, void of excitement and void of you, until the end of the week. For now, though, he could watch the sunrise, and maybe up on that mountain, you were watching it, too.

[harryssunflowerkiwi]

‘KIWI’ Part 2.

Pairing: Harry Styles x female reader.

Synopsis: You see Harry again. he’s still smitten and you’re horny.

Word count: 8.1K

Warnings: swearing, drinking, drugs (cocaine; mentioned in some detail), and SMUT (unprotected! Wrap it up pls), and slight pain kink. 18+

A/N: Hello! I hope you’re doing good :) here’s part two!!! Yay!! Thank you to those who liked part one. I truly am having so much fun writing this. Sorry it took me 80000 years to post this, I took a break! But it’s here and I’m so happy. Also, this is my first time writing smut! So please be nice but let me know what you think. Again, please keep in mind that this is PURE FICTION and is in no way an accurate dipiction of Harry Styles! It’s just for entertainment purposes. Also! For the purpose of the story, please pretend kiwi was not part of HS1 and instead part of his third (unwritten) album :) With that being said, i hope you love this part as much as I do xoxo

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT :)

🥝 Outfits mentioned in this part 🥝

Words underlined are links !

PART 1

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September 12th 2020~

It’s nine days since Harry had met you, nine long days. For him the days since have been filled with long studio hours and sleepless nights. Every night he’d come home and wonder when he’d get the chance to meet you again, he’d think about what you were doing and if you were thinking about him as much as he’d been thinking about you. Surely you hadn’t, he thought. If you had been interested you would have given him your phone number, like all the other girls had jumped at the chance to do. He tried to stay humble, but he wasn’t oblivious to the effect he had on women. It was obvious, atleast it always had been before. They all threw themselves at him, but you didn’t. You didn’t even give him a proper excuse to why he couldn’t have your number. You showed him very little interest and yet, here he was completely infatuated after one simple meeting. Sure, meeting you gave him enough inspiration to write songs which was initially the reason he went to that party. But it only left him wanting to do whatever he could to get the chance to see you again.

The days since the party have been rather stress filled for you on the other hand. With London fashion week coming up in less than a week you had so much work to do. You had a fashion show on the seventeenth to prepare for and dozens of custom outfits for various celebrities to finalize. It was both exhausting and exhilarating. You had thought about Harry, he’d pop up in your head whenever a song of his would play in the office or in the coffee shop you went to almost everyday. You felt the spark when you two had met, of course you did. He was incredibly attractive, charming, and kind but you didn’t have time to be dating a celebrity of his stature. You have a buisness to run and the last thing you need a bunch of insanely nosey fans bullying you along with the heartbreak of the inevitable break up.

Harry was sitting in the studio with Mitch, Sarah, and Charlotte recording. The three of his band mates were in the booth recording their respective parts of a song Harry had written a few months back called “30,000 miles” while Harry was sat on one of the black leather couches just outside the booth attempting to write. Although he’s been able to write a lot about you, he’s only gotten one song even remotely close to being finished. Most of what’s he’s writin since meeting you has come out more like journal entries about how your eyes made him quiver and how when you hugged him he felt like your touch was exactly what he’d been missing thus far. It all sounded like a horny fourteen year old, Harry thought. He needed to see you again for his feelings to repourpose themselves into more coherent emotions. Harry had been wracking his brain on how to make that happen since the two of you met, and the only thing he could think of was to ask Jeff. The only problem with that, however, was that Jeff would more than likely tell you and make Harry look desperate. And even though he was bordering on desperate, he certainly didn’t want you to know that.

Harry was lost in thought (about you of course) when Mitch came out of the booth and sat in the dark blue velvet armchair directly across from Harry. “Still having trouble dude?” He asked sympathetically bringing Harry out of his little trance. Harry sighed and moved his gaze away from the small leather bound notebook he was writing in to focus on his friend.

“S’ just hard man. S’neva been this hard before.” Harry said as he closed the book.

Mitch nodded and mumbled “it’s probably because you’ve never been single while tryna write”. Harry put his palms over his face and let out deep chuckle.

“Fuck, you’ve go’ a good point” he agreed as he sat lower into the couch.

“Are you interested in anyone at all right now? I mean I don’t think I’ve seen ya single for this long in forever” Mitch pointed out as he reached for his water bottle from beside the sound board. Harry sighed deeply, ran his right hand through his curls and gave Mitch a little pout.

“Who is she dude?” Mitch asks with after letting out a loud laugh at his friend being overly dramatic.

“Y’ remember y/n? The designer fo’ KIWI?” Harry responds, leaning forward and rests his left palm under his chin.

“Fuckin hell H. Wasn’t that night the first time you met her?” Mitch says with a grin, obviously teasing Harry.

“I know, I know. S’fuckin ridiculous but I can’ stop thinking about her” Harry replied as he slouched himself back into the couch shoved his black raybans off the top of his head so they were sitting on his nose, covering his embassment.

September 13th 2020~

Today is Sunday, which means it’s Harry’s day off. He didn’t really know what to do with the day but he was still extremely happy to have time to relax and try (and fail) to not worry about everything. He woke up at ten this morning, actually allowing himself to sleep in to make up for the various all nighters he had been pulling throughout the last week. He dreamt of you but not in the way he’d want, not one of those erotic sex dreams where he could make all his needs come true. No. In his dream you were with someone else, and he kept trying to talk to you but you couldn’t hear him or you were simply ignoring him. Either way it didn’t feel good but for some ungodly reason he’d still woken up with a raging boner. “Fuckin ‘ell even the thought of her wit’ someone else gets me off” he grumbled with a groan in frustration as he rolled out of bed.

As Harry was making himself breakfast, chopping yellow grape tomatoes on the large oak cutting board that sat on the marble counter next to the stove, he heard his phone ring. He looked around to try and spot where the ringing was coming from as he’d forgotten where he’d put it. He spotted it on the island behind him and to his left. He sprinted over to it and quickly answered with his left hand, wiping the tomato juice off the fingers on his right hand off on his blue sweatpants. “Harry here” he said realizing he hadn’t checked to see who it was before answering.

“Harry! I’ve got great news for you mate” Mitch’s deep American accent rang through the phone.

“Wha’ is the good news Mitch?” Harry asked as he sat at one of the light blue quilted stools that sat at the island, suddenly feeling slightly anxious.

“I’ve just found out KIWI is doing a show for London fashion week, it’s this Thursday” Harry could practically hear the grin on Mitch’s face through his voice. A fashion show? How could he get an invite four days before the show? Would he even get the chance to see her if he did? Won’t she be busy? Won’t she think he’s weird for going? Harry’s mind was filled with questions he knew Mitch wouldn’t have the answers to.

“Dude?” Mitch’s voice snapped Harry out of his panicked thoughts.

“Gotta go man, thanks for telling me” Harry mumbled before hanging up quickly.

After a few hours of debating with himself and trying tirelessly to forget about the idea all together, Harry found himself sat at his dining table with his phone open to Jeff’s contact. He stared down at the phone resting against the mahogany wood dining table trying to convince himself this was a bad idea. However, his efforts were in vain in the end. He glanced at the time in the right hand corner and it showed 12:41AM. He pressed the call button so quickly he himself even doubted if he’d done it at all, but evidently the calling screen came up and he brought it to his ear. Letting out a huge sigh at the forth ring, figering Jeff wouldn’t even pick up at this time of night. “Hello?” Harry almost dropped the phone when he’d heard Jeff’s voice on the other end.

“Um h-hello, Jeff s’ Harry” he stuttered slightly, still not really believing he was going through with this.

“Yeah H, I know. What’s up?” Jeff chuckled loudly.

“Oh umm so you uh know y/n right?” Harry asked trying not to seem to eager.

Again, Jeff laughed a bit before saying “you like her don’t you?”. Harry groaned internally at his friends ability to gudge his feelings based on his voice alone.

“Doesn’ matter, was jus’ callin’ to see if you could get meh a seat at the KIWI show on Thursday” Harry said as more of a statement rather than a question, feeling his confidence peak its head again.

“H, that’s in four days” Jeff responded without hesitation.

“Yeh I know, I jus’ ave’ to be there alrigh’?” Harry asked as politely as he could without making it obvious he was trying desperately to avoid any further questioning.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do”.

September 14th 2020~

Today was incredibly busy for you. There were only three days till your show and you still had so much to do to make sure it would be perfect. You were currently at the office that you rent out for KIWI. The space is nice, modern and open with a slightly acclectic feel to match your taste. There were 3 separated offices, the smallest was for your assistant Grace, another for the head of public relations for the company who’s name is Gretchen, and the largest one at the end of the hall was yours. You decorated nicely, but kept it minimal as to not cause to many distractions. You only came in when there was issues you couldn’t deal with from home or when you just felt like getting out of the house to work. You liked to keep your company small, only hiring people who you really trust for jobs you couldn’t handle yourself. Even though KIWI is incredibly successful, you were generally able to manage it with little help.

At 7:13AM you arrived, greeting Grace and heading straight to your private office telling her to follow you. Once sat in your large brown leather chair Grace started giving you the rundown of who’s called, what there is to do, shipments, etc. “Jeff Azoff called early this morning, he left a voicemail asking for your availability. I told him to call back at 11 just before you go out for lunch as that is your earliest availability today” she relayed as she stood nervously (she was pretty much always nervous, even though she’d been working for you for over two years).

“Okay, did he mention what it was about?” You asked wondering what he could possibly need that he wouldn’t just call your cell.

“No, but he did say it’s urgent” Grace responded with a small nod.

At a quarter to eleven your desk phone rang, you picked up at the first ring already sitting right next to it typing out an email on your laptop. “Mr. Azoff on line 2” Grace said on the other side.

“Great, thanks Grace” you responded before hanging up and switching to line two. “Hey Jeff” you said as you closed your laptop.

“Hi! How’s it going y/n, haven’t talked since the party” he asked seeming quite cheery.

“I’m good Jeff, why are you calling through KIWI? Why not just call my cell?” You questioned rather confused.

“Ah because you told me not to call your cell for matters concerning KIWI-” he said as if it was obvious.

“Right, but you you’ve only ever called regarding KIWI to get pieces for one of your clients and you usually go through Gretchen” you cut him off, still extremely confused.

He chuckled before saying “Well If you’d stop cutting me off I’d tell you why I’m calling. I need a front row seat for your show on Thursday”. Well, that was certainly not what you thought he’d say. He’s never asked for a seat at one of your shows, let alone a front row three days before it happens.

“What? Are you insane? It’s in three days. Why on earth would you need a front row seat?” You asked, now even more confused.

“It’s not for me, it’s for Harry. C’mon I know you can bump someone back a bit, it’ll be good publicity having him there” Jeff said calmly. You had to do a bit of a double take when he mentioned Harry’s name, why would Jeff need him to be there this last minute? He had surely already been invited to the Gucci show on the same day. You sighed

“I don’t know, the people I put in front row deserve to be there. Any of them would take it as an insult to be put in second row”. You heard hum quietly on the other side of the phone

“y/n if you put Harry upfront it’ll be good for KIWI, you know I’m right” he continued. You let out a frustrated huff, you knew he was right. The paps would have a field day with him missing the Gucci show to come to yours, but you already had so much to deal with.

“Was this your idea or his?” You asked, genuinely curious. “He asked me to, but I think it’s an incredible idea for both of you” he said confidently.

“Fine, call Grace to set up the details. I’ll have an outfit sent to Harry by Wednesday morning just email me his measurements. He can’t be showing up to my show in Gucci” you replied sternly, giving in.

Harry was at the studio when Jeff called him. He was going over some adjustments for ‘30,000 miles’ with Kid Harpoon when his phone rang. “Jeff! Any news?” He said hopefully after picking up as soon as he was Jeff’s contact.

Jeff chuckled at the boys eagerness “Mhm you’re lucky I’m so good at convincing people, you’ve got a front row seat at the KIWI fashion show this Thursday” he said proudly.

Harry stood out of the leather rolling chair instantly and yelled “Wooooo!” Slightly starting Kid and causing Jeff to laugh through the phone.

“I’m glad I could get it for ya H. They are sending over an outfit for you to wear and I’ll have a car at your place on Thursday at 6PM sharp to pick you up.” Harry smiled widely, taking in the information as he sat back down.

“Thank ya’ Jeff, y’ the best manager eva’”

September 17th 2020~

Today is the big day. Of course it’s not your first runway show but the nerves never lessen, every time it gets more intense and nerve-racking. The cloths you design are your heart and soul, your blood sweat and tears, your everything. This makes showing them off to critics and the entire world terrifying but exciting. Not to mention you’ve decided to walk as the last model for the finale, which makes the whole thing even scarier as you’ve never really walked a runway as a model.

For some reason the knowledge that Harry was going to be front row made you all the more anxious and you hated it. No man has ever made you nervous at your own damn fashion show, it’s rediculous. “I don’t even like him” you said aloud to yourself as you were in the car on the way to the venue. Luckily by now your driver knows well enough to keep his mouth shut when you talk to yourself.

Once you arrived at the venue it was half past two. You always show up hours before the show to help set up, get all the outfits in place for the respective models and make sure everything is absolutely perfect. You’d spent months designing the way you wanted the show to look, clothing aside. The catwalk is all white, ensuring that all the colors included in the collection pop as they were meant to, especially once photographed. Above the runway are large fixtures that are meant to look like clouds, giving the whole collection an airy out-of-this-world feel. Which is exactly what you had planned when designing it.

Backstage was hectic and stressful, as it always was. The models all arrived at three, giving everyone enough time to get hair and makeup done in time for the show. The makeup and hair you had chosen for this collection was simple, yet bold. Nothing to extreme to not take away from the clothes.

Harry was incredibly excited for the show, more excited than he had been for a fashion show since the first one he attended. He was there to see you, but he was also elated to get to see the collection. He’s never been disappointed by the pieces you’d designed. Even before his newfound crush on you. You were exceedingly talented and fantastic at what you do, he’s known that since long before he met you. The suit you’d sent for him was breathtaking to say the least. He absolutely adored it. It was a black suit, with gold lining and silver flower embroidery all along the jacket. It made him feel like a billion dollars.

Harry arrived just before the show started, not to seem to eager in case you came to survey the venue before it started. He found the seat with his name on it and grinned widely as he sat. His seat was right at the end of the runway where the models would turn before walking back. It was the ideal spot really, and it gave him butterflies thinking that you gave him the best spot. The venue was nothing like he’d ever seen before and he was sure you had something to do with that also, because it was breathtaking.

Time went by like a blink of the eye for you, what seemed like twenty minutes turned out to be an hour. You were ushered to the hair and makeup chair to prepare for the finale. For some reason all your nerves had dissipated, completely vanished into thin air as you sat and listened to the makeup artist compliment you on how incredible everything looked.

After forty minutes in the hair and makeup chair you were being dressed. You had chosen one of the only gowns in the collection for the finale, wanting to go out on a memorable note (even though you considered every piece in the collection to be memorable). The gown was a floor length fully hand embroidered black and gold gown. Each embroidery was done by you. It had long sleeves with the same detailing and it was sinched perfectly around your waist with a large solid gold plate. The gown was the piece that inspired the whole collection, taking almost six months to make. You were very proud of it and you felt incredibly sexy.

As your stylists were putting you in your black pumps, one of the coordinators came over and said “miss y/l/n is on in five”. You took a deep breath, attempting to mentally prepare yourself. You followed the coordinator towards the entrance to the catwalk. You felt eerily calm, you knew you should be freaking out but you weren’t. You felt incredible.

“3..2...1.. here comes y/n for the finale”

Harry was thoroughly enjoying the show, each item was completely perfect. Everything was cohesive but wildly different, anyone with working eyes could tell how much thought and attention to detail was put into everything. Even the styling was uniquely perfect, each model wore the pieces like they were made for them. Not a single thing looked out of place, everything belonged in a rabelious harmony and Harry was completely enveloped in it. The music stopped playing as the last model walked out, Harry looked around as another song started playing. Assuming this was the finale, Harry sat up straighter and grinned. Excited to see whatever you had planned. As the beat dropped in the song, all the models came walking out in two lines. One on the right and one on the left. Once the two front models came to the end of the catwalk they all stopped and slowly bowed their heads. Harry’s heart was beating so fast he thought he might actually have a heart attack. Then all of a sudden you walked around the corner and stepped onto the runway and Harry’s heart stopped completely. You were walking towards him like you had walked a million runways. You looked so powerful and sexy. The gown you wore was nothing short of breathtaking, a fine piece of art and the way it fit your body made all the blood rush towards his crotch.

As you reached the end of the catwalk you looked directly at Harry, who was sitting right night to the main camera. You gave him a quick knowing smirk, obviously seeing the pure shock on his face as you turned around and started walking back towards the entrance. God, you felt fucking incredible. Each model followed you one by one off the runway before the music stopped.

September 23rd 2020~

The last three days went by relatively fast for you. The show went exactly how you wanted it to and it was nothing short of perfection. All the press had been incredible and the critics were being positive which wasn’t always a given. There’s been a lot of buzz about the gown you wore, in fact, there’s word of the national art museum of London wanting to showcase it which is unbelievable. All your success has been skyrocketed, even from what it was at before. Having Harry at the show helped with the media buzz, they always went crazy when he was around but it did start rumours of the two of you dating. Especially after the pictures from the show were released and it was very obvious he was staring at you in such a way. You didn’t really care though, all publicity was good publicity.

It was Wednesday today, and you decided to work from home this week because you were still pretty exhausted from all the work you’d done in preparation for the show. Your day had been relitively slow, answering emails and drawing out some new designs for spring. You were sitting at your desk drawing out a coat design when your phone started ringing, you glanced at it and saw Glenne’s name pop up. You smiled lightly and picked up up.

“Hello?” You greeted her.

“Hey y/n! How are you?” She asked cheerily.

“I’m great G, just finishing some work. How are you?” You asked as you sat back in your chair.

“Great! So the reason I’m calling is because Jeff and I wanted to throw a party for you to celebrate the show. Obviously we need you here for that” she giggled, obviously excited.

“Aw of course I’ll come. What day is it?” You asked.

“It’s Friday night! It’ll be at the Hilton hotel, just give them your name. We’d like everyone to be there at nine if possible” she responded.

“Okay! I’ll be there at seven babe” you said as you stood up to look in your fridge, suddenly feeling hungry.

“Harry will be there” Glenne said knowingly, slightly drawing out the end of his name. You laughed as you shoved a slice of cheese into your mouth.

“And?” You asked.

She giggled again, “he’s been asking about you a lot lately, and we all saw him at your show. You two are obviously fucking” she said in a mocking tone.

“G! We are not. He’s just obsessed with me” you chuckled, rummaging through your fridge for more snacks.

“Oh stop, who isn’t? Plus you guys would be adorable together!” She responded loudly through the phone.

“G, he’s the relationship type and I’m so far from that, you know this” you said sternly.

“Y/N you don’t even know him, how do you know he’s the relationship type?” She asked giggling at your tendency to assume you know people immediately upon meeting them.

“I’ve heard his music, G. Anyways, I’ve got to go make something to eat before my stomach eats itself. I’ll see you Friday”.

September 25th 2020~

As soon as Jeff told Harry about the party they were throwing for you he was ecstatic, knowing he’d get a chance to actually speak to you. Since it was a celebration of you and KIWI, Harry decided to wear some of the pieces he owned that you designed. It took him about 30 minutes to decided on which of your designs he wanted to wear, hoping you would appreciate the gesture. Jeff had already assured Harry that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing KIWI at the party when he brought up the idea to him, which made Harry feel more comfortable. Eventually he decided to wear a two piece set you’d designed last season. It was Harry’s favourite. It was a long sleeve button up shirt and long perfectly fitted trousers, both made out of a beautiful sparkly blue fabric with a light contrast stitching. 

Upon arriving at the hotel Harry noticed that there were many cars parked out front and all down the street, way more than there had been at the last get together. He assumed it was because you would have invited more of your circle this time, as they were celebrating you. Harry made it up to the penthouse where the lady at the front desk had told him to go, and was greeted at the door by Jeff, quickly giving him a hug and ushering him into the large room. “Sorry I’m a little late, had some issues with m’ car” Harry apologized to Jeff with a small smile, both of them fully aware that he was indeed late because he takes so long to get ready.

“S’all good man, it’s just getting started” Jeff chuckled lowly as Harry followed him through the foyer and into the large open living room, where it seemed most of the party goers were. It was a pretty busy, around 80 people from what Harry could see. Through the crowd his eyes landed directly on you. You were talking to a small group of people, some of who Harry recognized. You were sitting on one of the big couches on the right side of the open space, you were slowly nodding while sipping from a glass of dark brown liquid. You were wearing a gold sparkly jumpsuit that hugged every inch of your torso in the most flattering way possible and flared at the from the knee down. Half of your wavy hair was effortlessly pinned back with a brown claw clip. You looked so beautiful, you stood out in the crowd of other beautiful people. Your energy and vibrancy completely overpowering the room.

As soon as Harry entered the living room with Jeff your attention was taken away from the group of friends around you. You immediately noticed that Harry was wearing one of your personal favourite designs, and you could tell he had spotted you aswell. As if he was looking for you, he smiled widely as you made eye contact. “Excuse me guys, I’m going to grab another drink” you smiled at the group before standing up and walking across the living room diagonally towards the open concept kitchen to the left of the living room. You purposefully glanced at Harry as you walked passed him with a cute innocent smile.

As soon as you entered the kitchen and bar area you felt someone behind you, you turned on your heel being met with Harry a few feet behind you. “Ello love” he greeted you with his deep English accent, “congratulations on the show, ‘t was incredible” he complimented with a genuine smile on his soft pink lips. You smiled back and slowly looked him up and down, observing his body in your design.

“Thank you, Harry. I’m glad you liked it. Lovely choice by the way” you said as you motioned towards his outfit with your hand.

“T’was hard too choose which one to wear if I’m ‘onest” he replied with a low chuckle as he stepped towards you a bit.

“You made the right choice, it’s one of my favourite designs I’ve done” you complimented as you leaned against the large marble counter, placing your almost empty drink on it “fits your body perfectly” you continued as you met your gaze with his again.

“It does doesn’t it?” He asked cheekily as he pulled at the top a bit with his ring clad hands. “Y’ look incredible, love the jumpsuit” he flattered as he moved about a foot closer, leaving only a few inches between the two of you.

You smirked “so charming” you replied as you gently touched his cheek while holding strong eye contact. You could feel his heart beating against your arm. You stared at each other for a few more seconds, almost as if you were having a conversation solely through eye contact.

“You need a drink” you smiled as you let your hand fall from his face and you spinned around as you made your way over to the bar.

Harry was completely stunned as he watched you walk over to the large bar, quickly grabbing all the ingredients for whatever drink you had decided he should drink. Being so close to you only moments before made his mind blur and his heart race. How could you just walk away when it seemed as if you were about to kiss him? Most people would jump at the chance. But he assumes most people would also jump at the chance to kiss you, he certainly would. He was taken out of his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Harry” you called for him from the bar, his name sounding like heaven coming out of your mouth like that.

“What’d ya make me love?” He asked as he walked over to you. You held out a glass filled with dark brown liquid and a single large ice cube in it.

“A Manhattan, it’s my favourite” you blinked sweetly at him, the sides of your mouth tugging up at the sides as he grabbed it mimicking your smile before taking a sip and making a face as though he’d just taken a shot. Your smile grew.

“S’very strong love, but good” he assured you.

“Mmm what’s the point of a drink if it’s not strong enough to burn” you replied, not as a question but rather a strong statement again hitting him with that beautiful stare. You picked up your own drink (the same as the one you’d made for him) and said a quick “cheers” before downing most of it. Harry was about to say something but was quickly inturrupted by a group of people entering the bar area.

The group consisted of a few people Harry knew, immediately recognizing Lizzo, ASAP Rocky, Gigi and Bella Hadid but there were a few others with them he didn’t know (or atleast didn’t recognize). The smile on your face grew into a wide grin as Bella squealed and said your name, engulfing you in a bear hug. “Bells!” You giggled lightly into her shoulder before releasing from the hug.

“The show was incredible Y/N. You’re a fucking genius” she praised as she walked behind the bar, still smiling widely.

“You walked in it love” you reminded her, giggling as you went to greet Rocky. The two of you hugged tightly before releasing, Rocky’s hands going up to cup your face.

“You killed it baby, just like you always do” he said as he kissed your nose. You could feel Harry’s eyes burning into the side of your head as he chatted along with lizzo.

“Mm thank you Rocky, you know you’re my muse” you grinned wider as you kissed both his hands in appreciation.

Harry couldn’t help but watch your interaction with Rocky, you seemed so comfortable, so intimate. Harry felt a pang of jealousy run through his stomach at you calling Rocky your “muse”. He brushed it off with a clearing of his throat as he turned his attention back to lizzo. “You good H? Uh oh. Y/N made you one of her manhattans didn’t she?” Lizzo laughed loudly looking down at the drink in his hands before hitting Harry’s shoulder playfully, the question bringing your attention to them.

“Hey! My manhattans are world renowned Mel” (Lizzo’s real name is Melissa) you said proudly as you took a few steps forward, closing the distance between you and the couple. You pulled Lizzo in for a hug “m glad you came” you said as the two of you pulled apart.

“Of course! The collection is legendary as per” she replied genuinely. You thanked her and gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning your attention to Harry.

“If you’ll excuse Harry and I, Mel. He was just about to escort me outside for a smoke” you informed her, all well making full eye contact with Harry.

“Mhmmm you two have fun, come get me for shots later”

Harry followed you outside onto the large open balcony, watching you greet people on the way, doing the same if he knew the person. As soon as the two of you stepped outside Harry watched you take a deep breath, tipping your head back slightly to take in the fresh air. It looked almost erotic, even though it was just a simple action it made all Harry’s senses tingle. “How do’ya know Rocky?” Harry asked seemingly out of nowhere, it almost shocked himself. He knew he tends to get jealous rather easily, and maybe even a little possessive but usually it only comes out with people he’s exclusive with, not a women he’s never even kissed. And yet, there it was. He tried to sound casual but worried he failed terribly. You turned your head to him with a slight smirk before licking your lower lip and chuckling slightly.

“Oh, we’ve known each other for a long time. Met him at a party when I was first starting out” you said nonchalantly before grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the small table that sat on the deck. Harry nodded, understanding that you were in no way going to give away the nature of yours and Rockys relationship.

“I listened through your album again this morning” you admitted, effortlessly changing the subject back to him while taking a long drag of the cigarette you had just lit. Harry tried his best to hide the grin appearing on his face as he stared at you,

“did ya?” He asked waiting for you to continue your thought.

“Mhm. Listened to it in the shower” you hummed, as you leaned forward against the railing in front of the two of you, taking in the view and breaking eye contact.

The thought of you listening to Harry sing while completely naked in the shower made his skin feel like it was on fire and all his blood rush down to his groin. “What’s y’ favourite song?” He asked, leaning his back against the railing right next to you and looking down at your face. You looked up at him and hummed in thought.

“She” you said with a thoughtful, almost devious smile before standing up straight and putting out your smoke.

“Let’s go do shots, yeah?” Harry nodded with an amused smile as you grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the hotel.

Four shots and two hours later Harry found himself sitting on one of the couches to the right side of the open living room, watching you dance along with your friends in the middle. You looked so free, so careless, so magical. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, trying to listen to whatever Jeff was trying to tell him to his right. “You’re not paying attention are you man?” Harry heard Jeff ask through a laugh as he followed Harry’s eyeline straight to you. Harry pried his eyes away from you to look at Jeff

“sorry mate. I’m listenin’” Harry told him, not really trying to be convincing.

“She’s an actress y’know. Not literally, but she knows how to get what she wants, she always has. But she’s got a good heart, just be careful alright?” Jeff said to him, patting his knee before standing up and walking over to glenne who was stood at the other side of the room.

Harry sat, watching you as he went over what Jeff had said to him a few moments ago. “She’s an actress”. Did he have to be careful? You didn’t look dangerous, but you did scare him a little. Not because he thought you’d physically hurt him or anything, but he knew if he’d let you, you could dig deep into his already fragile heart. Break it, possibly like it hadn’t been before.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by seeing you turn your body towards where he was sitting, breaking yourself out of the group of friends that surrounded you. You made eye contact with Harry and motioned for him to come to you with your perfectly manicured right hand. You weren’t smiling, but he could see a glint of something he thought was amusement in your eyes. He got up and walked over to you. “You motioned fo’ me love?” He asked as he approached, a small smirk apparently on both your lips.

“Mhm, come” you said as you offered him your hand. He took your small hand in his as you ushered him through the growing crowd.

The two of you walked all the way through the living room, and passed the kitchen before entering a smaller room to the left of the kitchen. As you entered Harry took in his surroundings, it appeared to be an office space. There was a glass table in the center of the room with a large plate decorated with multiple lines of white powder on it, along with three chairs; one blue velvet and the other two grey of the same material. There were a few other people in the room, but Harry didn’t recognize them. “Some privacy please loves” you said aloud, asking them to leave Harry and yourself alone in the space. The strangers immediately obliged when they saw you, muttering greetings as they exited. You turned around to face Harry who was standing only slightly behind you.

“do you fancy a line Harry?” You asked, your hand coming up to touch his shoulder lightly.

“S’ a party innit?” He agreed, making you smile all too innocently given what he was agreeing to was quite the opposite. You walked over to the plate of narcotics, picking up the metal straw from beside it before holding it up to your nose. You bent over the table, flipping your hair over to the right side to make sure it didn’t get in the way as you breathed in deep through your nose inhaling a thick line of the powder. Harry watched as you stood up straight, tipping your head back and inhaling through your nose to make sure you got it all. You let out a cheery giggle before holding the straw out to Harry. He took it and did the same.

Just as Harry stood up straight you gently carressed his left cheek, staring into his blown out pupils. “God, you’re somethin’ else” he spoke just below a whisper, only loud enough for you to barely hear. He brought his large ring filled hand up to your waist as your hand fell from his cheek to his neck. He applied pressure to your waist encouraging you to move so your bum was pushed against the glass table. Once you obliged he moved even closer to you so your noses were practically touching, his hand moving to smooth itself over your back to hold you in place.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice much lower and more raspy than it had been. His eyes filled with desperation and lust. Instead of responding you giggled lightly and pulled him in by his neck, connecting your lips. The kiss was slow and messy, but filled with an undying passion. Your left hand squeezed his neck slightly, egging him on as one of his hands went to cup your jaw while the other one steadied on your waist. You opened your mouth slightly, inviting him in which he immediately took advantage of, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Both your lips were slightly numb from the coke but it did nothing but intensify the feeling. He tasted like whiskey and peppermint, making your head dizzy (in the most incredible way). You let your hands drop down to his waistband, slowly untucking the button down from his trousers and beginning to undue the buttons. Your eagerness made a low groan erupt from the back of his throat, feeling his boner growing rapidly at your touch. You broke the kiss as you finished unbuttoning his shirt, both of your breathing unsteady. He watched as you ran your hands up his torso slowly before pushing his sleeves off his wide shoulders. You made eye contact with him as he went to kiss you again, you stopped him shaking your head. You bent your head down slightly and licked his chest, starting from the top of his butterfly tattoo and ending just under his jaw. The feeling driving Harry completely insane with lust, goosebumps appearing all over his body as he let out a throaty moan

“y’ drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy” he said as you came up, standing up straight.

“Sit” you spoke, pointing at the large blue velvet chair next to you, not breaking eye contact. You could still hear the booming music and people taking from the other rooms as you watched him sit. You turned around so your back was facing Harry as you undid the tie that held up the top part of your jumpsuit letting it fall down, exposing your entire torso and back.

You heard Harry mutter a low “fuck” as you turned around and positioned yourself on top of him, successfully straddling his lap.

You could feel the exceedingly large bulge through his pants pressing against your crotch as he began kissing down your neck and towards your breasts causing you to moan slightly.

“Please Harry” you said breathlessly, giving him some control as you began slowly grinding back and forth against him.

“Tell me princess. Tell me what ya want” he raspily requested as he gripped onto your hips with both his hands, guiding your movements.

“I want you to fuck me harry, I want you to use me” you said still grinding against him while looking down slightly into his eyes as he stared back up at you. Without hesitation he lifted you, firmly holding onto your bum as he stood up and set you down on the table.

“Lift up love” he ordered, you leaned back on your hands and lifted up for bum so he could pull down the remaining part of your jumpsuit. After discarding the material to the side, taking your nude pumps along with it, he took a moment to take in your practically naked body. You grinned widely at his reaction as he began to grope your boobs, once again connecting his lips with yours. You reached your hands down to undo the button of his pants, using your skilled fingers you got them down in record time. You looked back up at him to see his eyes already staring at you. You placed your hands on either side of his face while his still ran along your nude body.

“Please Harry, I need your cock” you whispered seductively causing his whole body to go into overdrive.

He quickly pulled down his already undone trousers and boxers before sliding your peach coloured thong to the side, feeling your dripping pussy with his index finger and letting out an animalistic groan. You watched as he grabbed his large dick with his left hand, lining himself up at your entrance before turning his gaze back to your face. You both held eye contact as he entered you. The feeling completely overwhelming both of you, you leaned your head back, gripping roughly onto his back as you both let out a strangled moan. “Fuck” you moaned “you’re so big”. Your words egging him on, he picked up his pace pumping in and out of you slow but rough. He kept his focus on your face, watching as you moaned his name and praised him. You looked like a complete wet dream, your eyes barely open, your head tilted back as you stared at him through your eyelashes refusing to break eye contact.

“Good girl.... y’ take me so fucking good” he moaned, his ringed fingers digging harshly into your hips as his grip tightened. You lifted your head and moved your hands to his neck pulling him in closer so that his face was not even an inch away from yours.

“Harder Harry, fuck me harder” you moaned, completely out of breath. He started pounding into faster, all the sounds of the hectic party just outside completely drowned out by the sound of his balls slapping harshly against you and your shared moans. You finally broke eye contact when you leaned your head to the side and began leaving messy wet kisses along his jaw before meeting his neck with your mouth. You bit down roughly onto the skin of his neck earning a throaty moan from him. You licked over the spot you’d just bitten, soothing the pain a bit before he pulled your head back, balling your hair into his fist so you would look at him.

“Dirty little princess y’ are... leavin’ marks on me” he growled into your mouth before rejioning your lips to his and continuing his relentless pace with his hips.

You could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly, the overwhelming tingling travelling all throughout your body, all your senses becoming increasingly clear. “Y’ gonna cum fo’ me love?” He asked as he felt your walls becoming even tighter around his shaft. You nodded rapidly.

“Such a good girl... s’ fuckin tight” he said in between breathless moans.

“Cum fo’ me princess, I wanna feel you” he repeated, moving his right hand from its place on your waist to rub your clit, matching the pace of his hips. You could feel it happening, your vision blurred, your toes curling, your legs shaking rapidly as you dig your nails deep into Harry’s black, holding on for dear life.

“Fuck, Harry. Fuck” you repeated over and over as you came hard around his thick cock.

“Fuck Y/N, y’ gonna make me cum” he moaned into your neck as you held onto his shoulders.

“Cum for me harry, please” you whispered in his ear between moans of your own. You could feel his body start to weaken as he twitched inside of you, about to cum. You wrapped your legs around his hips tightly and pulled him in closer as he let out a loud raspy moan. You felt thick ropes of cum shoot deep inside you.

Once he came down from his high he kept his head rested on your shoulder, your arms and legs still wrapped tightly around him, both of you desperately trying to catch your breath. After a few seconds you both released, your legs falling down beside his as he stood. You made eye contact and you giggled lightly making him smile boyishly. Both of your hair a complete and utter mess, breathing heavily, and completely naked. The plate of cocaine that once sat on the side of the table was now shattered on the floor. “Your insane” Harry said before he laughed looking around the room, really taking in everything that happened. You laughed with him as you hopped off the table and walked over to where he had thrown your jumpsuit and shoes.

“I’m going to assume you meant that as a compliment.” You said as you pulled your jumpsuit up over your nude body.

“F’ course love. You’re a fuckin minx” he complimented as he buttoned up his shirt.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Harry” you shot back with a quick wink as you finished putting you shoes on.

End note: Ahh thank you so much for reading!! I’m kind of nervous about posting this, so please let me know what you thought! I’d seriously appreciate it. And if you liked it please please reblog :) I know the ending is kind of abrupt but it’ll make sense in the next part. Also, there will be ANGST coming up !

[karasunology]

⸙ ˚₊ ➷ SUNA RINTAROU & KITA SHINSUKE AS YOUR OLDER BROTHER HEADCANONS ! ❞

╰─ ─ ﾟheadcanons of suna & kita of how it would be like if they were your older brothers.

✐ . . . BIG BROTHER HEADCANONS.

[ OIKAWA TOORU & KAGEYAMA TOBIO VERSION. ] [ MIYA TWINS & BOKUTO KOUTARO VERSION. ]

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ suna rintarou & kita shinsuke <3

[ trigger warnings ━ slight manga spoilers !! ]

-ˏˋ ✉️ REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

⇣ please read the RULES before requesting.

SUNA RINTAROU.

➜ suna would your quiet older brother that's very caring for you

➜ nAH I'M KIDDING SHSJZ LMAOOO

➜ THIS BOY MAY SEEM QUIET BUT PHEWW

➜ DAMN IS HE NOISY IN TEXT & ON UNGODLY HOURS

➜ let me explain

➜ suna is the type of person that may seem quiet but could honestly be as chaotic as he can be

➜ good chaotic? or evil chaotic?

➜ you decide for yourself

➜ and that's when he's just a normal person to any other normal person

➜ but you're his younger sibling

➜ y'know, the one he sees everyday

➜ willingly or not HSJSNNXC

➜ yeah he'll be quiet sure but if YOU ever join into the mix

➜ fox boi is thriving quietly while your parents are just so done with you guys

➜ i headcanon that he's the type to fall asleep in day time

➜ but when it's night where h's supposed to be sleeping, homeboy is anything but sleeping

➜ he'll have a hard time sleeping and honestly you're probably also in the same situation as him because wow, sibling goals😍❇✨🗽

➜ and if you ARE in the same situation as him, and you'd get a random message from him at the most UNGODLIEST TIMES to go to a 24 hours open mcdonalds fast-food,

➜ who were you to object??

➜ like y'all's parents would wake up to go to work or something and would when they check the family gc, suna sent a pic of you falling asleep on a mcdonalds playground

➜ would paniK LMAOOO

➜ but before they pull your drowsy ass back, they'd check your guys' rooms and in the midst of checking they'd find you guys sleeping on the living room sofa

➜ woke up the next day in the floor because suna unconciously pushed you from the sofa y'all were sharing but you had a blanket placed on top of you while he was ShiVERING to death

➜ expect cursed videos or weird snapchat stories of you guys either saved privately or drunkenly high posted for the whole world to see😗😍

➜ y'all have the most random conversation at 3 am in imessage but y'all still forgot you sent those

➜ the type to message you a meme he finds funny while his drowssiness is taking a toll on him

➜ the type to message you while he's in the same room as you

➜ like especially if there are guests around & he hates socializing & just doesn't have the energy to talk to them

➜ fights were uncommon, and if it ever happens oH my

➜ he'll give you a cold shoulder because he's THAT petty b itch💅👊

➜ but he's probably the first to apologize because you are probably also a petty bi tch 💅👊

➜ b i c t h

➜ he's honestly a great listener 10/10 would recommend

➜ he may not be the best at advices, but atleast he's good at listening

➜ would a HUNDERED ( 100 ) PERCENT % dump the chores ordered for him to do TO YOU

➜ and would definitly use the excuse

“ because i'm older than you ”

➜ in conclusion, suna may be a lazy bicth but he'd be an . . . entertaining brother to say the least & never fails to take the role as an older sibling through hidden and small ways.

KITA SHINSUKE.

➜ the silent but active older brother

➜ the type of older brother that may not seem he cares about you but he actually does

➜ like  a l o t

➜ like that one chapter in the manga where kita may sound like a judgemental douche but actually cares about atsumu and gave him a note to take care of himself or something? with cough drops, pickled plums, lemon water etc.

➜ ugh i live for that

➜ anywh0res, that chapter?? yeah, you experienced alot of those

➜ you have gotten used to his attitude ever since you guys were young

➜ one time, when you guys were young, you scraped your knee and kita may seem like he's lowkey judging you but he was actually so worried

“ see? that's what happens when you're too clumsy ”

➜ yet proceeds to kneel next to you & would piggyback you while saying that you should lay off desert becausr you were getting heavy

➜ THE DIFFERENCE WITH HIM AND BOKUTO THO FGFDJJKDR

➜ and one time when you overworked yourself because of your studies to the point you got sick, kita was the one that was taking care of you

➜ your temperature? taken AND recorded by him. your porriage? made by him. if you got worse, he would make an appointment with a doctor. appointment? scheduled and made by him.

➜ and that's on periodt😋

➜ would scold you and use judgmental tones BUT would be so caring towards you ahHh

➜ and if it wasn't that bad but you still had to stay home the next day, but it was a school day so that means volleyball practice for kita

➜ and y'all probably argued about something that morning and he left while you were still sulking about your fight and when you entered the kitchen you would find a bag of your favourite foods, those cooled things you put on your forehead to bring the heat down, & medicines.

➜ and in the table was your porriaged cooked and served with a note on the side which says :

please take care of yourself more, i'll be home after practice like usual.

love, kita-nii.

➜ UGH YOUR HAND IN MARRAIGE SIRRRR

➜ and when bb boy went home you apologized about your fight that morning and he'd be so shocked because you don't usually say sorry first whenever you guys fight

➜ would tell you stories of what happened at practice that day simce you weren't there

➜ speaking of that, you would wait around the volleyball club and would be their unofficial manager

➜ why? because kita made you since he would ALWAYS walk you home with him and maybe some of his team mates that lives near you guys

➜ like he ain't reporting a missing teenager anytime soon

➜ already has a lot of things to handle so he would appreciate that you would get kidnapped on a different day? yeah, thx💋

➜ would garden with you because i headcanon that he really loves and has a passion for gardening & probably has his own little vegetables growing in the side awe

➜ would 100% help you do your chores

➜ and with anything you need honestly

➜ ugh we stan

➜ and if you ever awknowledge everything he has done for you and would let him know that you awknowledge him & that you REALLY APPRECIATE HIM AS YOU SHOULDDD💅😩✋

➜ he'd probably cry on the spot ngl

➜ i'm joking, but y'all would probably be so soft at that moment that he just offered you to watch those old childhood movies you guys used to love to watch

➜ in conclusion, i love this mans so much and that you should too. even if he may seem judgemental & a douche but trust me when i say he cares ALOT about you but he just shows it subtly. and he deserves a lot of love as well because you don't know how much has he taken care of you ever since you guys were kids.

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . another big brother headcanon?? y'all eating tHAT SHI T UP. but honestly, me too. also, another one of bokuto's sister x akaashi one will be posted either tonight, or tomorrow as per an anon's request. ugh we love a productive sister. @ to the anon who requested this, hope you enjoyed it because i totally did while my crusty eyes tries to stay awake last nighy writing this👑

requests are open or just send me anything because i need hooman interactions rn😋✌

[thran-duils]

Performance Art

Title: Performance Art Summary:  Fem!Reader x Ransom Drysdale. The reader is married to Ransom; a picture of their life and flashback to when they met. If she had been here by her own choice and her own choice alone, things may be better for her. Ransom is devious though and is able to tangle her into his web. Words: 4,482 Author’s Note: I would tag it dark!Ransom, but tbh, he is the perfect character to be writing for this type of thing. Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, dub-con smut, body shaming, coercion, emotional abuse, loveless relationship

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You caught a reflection of yourself in the window. A tight deep blue dress – Ransom’s favorite color of course – practically painted on your curves. It was the first time you had worn heels this high in almost a year -- the pregnancy causing too much swelling in your feet. The silver straps of them wove around your foot, a band around your ankle. You had thought humorlessly to yourself earlier it was like you were willingly putting on shackles –

“Y/N?”

You blinked, your attention zoning back into the dining table.

Ransom’s aunt Joni was looking at you across the table, a wide smile on her face. She smiled even wider if that was possible, “There you are. Looks like you were on, like, Mars or something.” A few light laughs shared at your expense echoed around hers. “I said, you look amazing. How did you do it?”

You snuck a quick look down at yourself. Right. Your weight. Post pregnancy. Of course that was an appropriate topic of conversation at the Drysdale dinner table. Everything was about appearance.

“Well—”

“Luckily, Y/N has got great genes,” Ransom cut in from beside you. You closed your mouth, gaze turned towards him. You had taken too long to respond for his liking, once again. “Plus, she is really motivated in the gym. Not to mention, a tuck does a lot of wonders.”

You almost visibly blanched. Almost. You were good at hiding your emotions now.

Joni let out a sharp, shrill laugh. Waving her hand at you, she said, “I knew you weren’t perfect! There was no way. Aw, Y/N, nothing to be ashamed of. I had it done too. Couldn’t stand to look at myself after Meg. She wreaked ab-so-lute havoc. Still does. Luckily not on my body though now, so it’s easier to deal with.”

“Thanks, mom,” Meg muttered, throwing her a disdainful look.

“I didn’t wait long either. They told me to wait six months,” Joni said, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “I just couldn’t.”

“Same,” Donna chimed in from down the table. Joni gave her a nod of solidarity.

“Doctor said if she was having the surgery, it should wait until after breastfeeding,” Ransom said for you. “Well, that’s why the baby is on formula.”

He tossed you a quick smirk, cutting into his steak. You watched the red seep from the flesh of it onto the plate, trying to disassociate from him divulging things that should be secret.

“And that’s perfectly fine,” Joni said firmly. “You know, I don’t care what some people say, formula is just as good for the baby as breastmilk. People should trust science more.” You heard a small snort from down the table and did not even have to look to know who it emanated from.

“Of course you would disagree with something regarding science,” Meg quipped at Jacob.

“When it’s filled with mass media lies –”

“Alright,” Donna said cutting into the conversation uncomfortably. Luckily, Walt had left the room to go to the bathroom; he no doubt would have encouraged Jacob’s tirade. Tenseness quickly melted away to charm, “Anyway, Y/N. You do look lovely. And the baby is just beautiful.”

The baby. Yes. The baby being cradled by Fran in another room currently instead of you. Away from the table in case he cried and disrupted dinner. He was beautiful for the aesthetic but when it came to dinner – or any other event Ransom deemed took precedence to your child’s presence -- his preciousness only extended into the collective patience so far.

“Yes, he is sure is a little bundle of joy,” Richard announced, looking proud. Proud of his new grandson and continuing his family line.

A perfectly crafted, artificial smile. “Yes. He is.”

<> <> <>

…TWO AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER

“What the absolute SHIT!”

A shout rang over the water of your shower. You stalled, straining to hear if there was anything else, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What the hell! Who the hell set my alarm to basically blow my goddamn fucking eardrums?”

Shit.

You rinsed your hair quickly, cursing the fact your refreshing shower was being cut short. You had over indulged on the vodka last night and the cool water was like heaven. And now you were going to have to deal with this.

Wrapping your towel around yourself, you continued to hear a loud conversation continuing about who had decided to try to blow someone’s eardrum and not to mention, wake them at an ungodly hour.

It was nine in the morning.

You left the bathroom quickly, walking over to the railing to look down the staircase to the ground-floor landing. You leaned against the oak, peering down at the looming figure over your roommate, Malcolm.

“Look, Ransom, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. We were all drinking. Just go back to bed, man.”

The other guy, Ransom, scoffed loudly. “Go back to bed? Malcolm, my ear is still ringing like a motherfucker!”

Malcolm threw his hands out, “Then do you want breakfast? Alyssa has it cooking.”

Ransom exhaled loudly, annoyance still evident. “Whatever,” he muttered, rubbing his ear, and turned away from Malcolm.

Malcolm all but rolled his eyes before saying, “Well, when you are hungry, it’s in the kitchen. I bet it would really help with the hangover.”

He turned and walked off.

Ransom looked after him before shaking his head and making to go back down the hall to the guest room where he had been sleeping.

Something was bubbling in your chest to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted.

Ransom’s eyes were on you in a moment a floor above him, leaning over the railing in only your towel. Now that he was looking at you and you had drawn attention to yourself, you were quickly losing whatever resolve had forced its way out of you.

“I… I think it was me?” you said uncertainly. “I mean, with your alarm. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had turned it up that loudly.”

He was burning a hole through you with the way he was staring at you. The seconds stretched into miles, just waiting for him to say something.

“You should keep your hands off my shit.”

The words stung. You were not sure what you had expected but maybe with an apology, you thought you would quell his frustration even a little bit. Apparently, that was not the case.

Ransom tore his gaze away from you and stormed off down the hallway leaving you gripping the bannister nervously.

<> <> <>

You would have gotten over the exchange if only you had not run into him a few days later. You were attending a business convention, trying to get a leg up in the industry; you were close to graduating. There were a lot of big names there and you had been drawn to Linda Drysdale, who had taken an immediate liking, you believed, to you. She was all charm and compliments, but they were constructive compliments, not merely for flattery. She claimed to be self-made -- you noted to yourself to investigate that later – and that was encouraging for you.

“Ah, did not expect to see you here,” She said over your shoulder.

You turned your head and your heart dropped into your stomach recognizing him. Ransom. He was dressed nicer now; hair slicked back, donning a dark grey cashmere sweater and cream trousers.

Turning away quickly, heart beginning to pound, you hoped he had not recognized you.

“Seems I can’t get away from you.”

No such luck.

Linda looked at you and then back at Ransom. “You two know each other?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘know’. I don’t even know her name. She just lives with my friend.”

“Oh. Hmm. That is an odd coincidence then,” Linda said. “Well, her name is Y/N and she is about to graduate – with honors as her esteemed mentor happened to mention to me and she had neglected to herself,” she gave you a slight wink. She had already teased you about being too modest about your accomplishments earlier in your conversation. It was only because Dr. Ewiler – and old friend of hers – had walked by and joined the conversation briefly and spoke you up that she knew about your grades. “With majors in Entrepreneurship and Accounting.”

Ransom peered down his nose at you, still not sitting down in one of the chairs. “Fascinating,” he said flatly.

Red came to your cheeks at his impertinent demeanor and Linda noticed.

Linda scoffed, looking embarrassed for a moment before recovering. She scolded, “Hugh Ransom, Jesus. Be polite.” To you, she said, “Please excuse, my son. I thought I raised him better.”

Son? You almost groaned. You did not miss him rolling his eyes at his mother’s comment.

“Sorry,” he told you in a tone of voice that relayed no remorse at all. “Y/N. Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” you said in an even tone, feigning some level of sincerity despite wanting him to just leave. But if he was her son… “I hope your hearing is back to normal despite my clumsy behavior. I am still apologetic about that.”

You were trying to mend that bridge with him; you did not want it to possibly ruin whatever relationship you were currently starting with his mother. You wanted – no, you needed – to have her as a connection.

Yet, you could not quite pinpoint the emotion – miffed? Amused? – that was behind his small, closed lipped smile at your apology. His smile did not reach his eyes, that was clear enough.

“It’s fine,” he responded.

“Your hearing…?” Linda asked.

Turning back to look at her, you gave a little nervous laugh, thinking of a cutesy way you could tell the story. You began to explain but Ransom cut you off.

“I had a little too much to drink and passed out. Y/N tried to help me out by making sure I got up at a decent hour but somehow turned the volume of my alarm up to full blast. Right next to my head.”

Linda snorted, “Oh. Well. That does sound like you.” There was something underneath her tone. As if there was a jab at Ransom. He was stone faced though. “Well, Y/N. At least you tried. That’s all we can say sometimes.”

You nodded, exhaling. Your heart was still beating rapidly.

“So, what brought you to a business convention at a college, Ransom? Surely it wasn’t to see me?” Linda asked, looking at him expectantly.

Ransom told her, “Actually. It was. I was hoping we could catch lunch. I wanted to talk to you about something. When’s this thing over?”

Linda checked her watch and said, “I can really leave any time now.”

You fought to hide your disappointment.

Her attention was on you now. “How about I give you my number, Y/N? I would like to continue this conversation about your business model proposal; it is promising.”

You sat up straighter, heart beginning to race again. She liked your idea? Truly?

“I could use some fresh minds at my disposal. That is if you are interested in my company.”

“Oh. Yes,” you said quickly.

Linda smirked at you amused at your quick response. She pulled out a small card from her purse and flipped it over, scribbling a number on the back. Holding it out to you, she said, “Personal cell phone. Now, don’t abuse it.”

“Of course not,” you reassured her, taking it from her. “That would be disrespectful.”

“Yes, it would,” Linda agreed. She stood up from her chair, straightening out her dress. She held out her purse to Ransom, “Here.”

He took it reluctantly as she gathered herself. You stood to meet her, realizing in your excited state you had neglected to do when she rose. You wanted to kick yourself.

When she looked at you again, you stuck your hand out. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. It was enlightening and beneficial for me to have a respected self-made businesswoman’s opinion.”

Linda shook your hand strongly. “You’re welcome, Y/N. I hope to hear from you soon.”

She walked past you and you pivoted, following her movement.

Ransom was staring you down and you averted your eyes from him to the ground momentarily before looking up at him again. He smirked when you met his gaze again. There was something malicious about it and you did not like it one bit.

<> <> <>

A knock on your bedroom door drew you from your bed. You put your bookmark in place and tossed the book onto the comforter next to you before getting up.

Swinging the door open, you startled seeing Ransom standing there, his large hand planted on the doorframe, leaning in towards you. His cologne was strong, wafting in around you.

“Can I come in?” he asked you without waiting for an answer, pushing past you.

“I…” you started to say, stumbling your words. “Yes?”

Ransom was taking your room in and you shifted uncomfortably. He walked over to your desk, flipping through the pages of your latest pieces of your latest thesis; the one you had been speaking to his mother about.

Eyes ran over the pictures hung of you and your friends, over your bookcase, your movie collection, fingers tracing your jewelry hung on display…

He was invading your space.

“Um, can I help you with something? Is Malcolm supposed to be here?”

“He is here,” Ransom answered, dismissively, coming to rest in front of your collection of rocks you had collected from different parts of the world you had traveled to. You could tell him where each one was from with ease, memory tied deeply to them. He was touching them, examining them, and tossing them carelessly back into the bowl.

Moving quickly over to him, you asked, “Can I help you with something then?”

He dropped the rock he was looking at and turned to you, “Yes, actually. I came up here to ask you out on a date.”

Taken aback, you leaned away, brows furrowed in confusion. “Ah. What?”

“Are you the one with a hearing problem, then?” Ransom quipped.

“I heard you just fine,” you responded, still trying to catch up with what was happening.

“Then it’s settled. I have a reservation at Ocean Prime at 7pm tonight. I’ll come back by to pick you up at 6:30pm.” He moved past you back towards your door.

Your mouth was open like a fish, blinking. You snapped back to reality and turned quickly. “Wait—”

“Wear something nice!” Ransom ordered over his shoulder, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Deflating, you stared at the empty doorway behind him. He had not even given you time to respond – to decline if you so chose to. But could you really decline? He was Linda Drysdale’s son. And you wanted so desperately a break into that business world that she moved in; Ransom – despite his boorish behavior – could be a key to that if you played your cards right.

Turning towards your closet, you bit your lip. What could you wear?

<> <> <>

Holding your clutch close in front of you, you walked next to Ransom after the valet took your car. He had a long stride and guided you to keep up with him. Throughout dinner he surprisingly asked you questions about yourself, allowing you to answer. You kept it short and courteous, mindful about not overindulging. He genuinely seemed interested and you were caught off guard; you had expected him to go off about himself. It is what his persona had indicated he would be like in all your encounters with him. Maybe he had simply been in a bad mood?

At least that was the case with you. He was less than courteous with the wait staff and you found yourself forcing yourself to thank them more profusely and smile wider to try to make up for him.

He picked up the entire bill although you had offered to go Dutch. He had seemed momentarily vexed by the offer but recovered quickly, holding out his card to the waitress between his fingers, not even acknowledging her presence past that.

On the ride home, it was quiet, the windows down in his beamer as the two of you raced through the city. He was a fast driver and it made you nervous, but you tried to focus on the city lights, taking in the night life.

Ransom insisted on walking you back inside and having another drink. He helped himself to a smidge of Malcolm’s scotch and handed you your own glass. You sipped and made a face even though you tried not to.

“Right. It’s not a woman’s drink,” he said, taking the glass back from you and emptying it into his own. “Let’s get you something fruity. Ah, perfect. Let me guess: this orange vodka is yours?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, playing with the top ruffle of your dress.

Ransom made you a drink of the vodka, orange juice, a splash of sprite, and ice.

“You know your way around a drink,” you commented lightly, taking a sip.

“I had the pleasure of being able to experiment with my mother and father’s extensive alcohol cabinet since I was a teen,” Ransom responded, taking a drink of the scotch. He walked around you to the living room. “I’ve always loved Malcolm’s style of decorating. He is good at keeping the Victorian look of the house while touching it up with modern.”

You followed him, listening.

He tossed you a look and said, “You haven’t put your touch on anything out here.”

“It’s not really my house. I just rent my room.”

“I know,” Ransom chuckled. “That’s why I wanted to see your room.” Another drink. “Want to show me it again?”

The way he so flippantly mentioned it…

“You don’t want to stay down here?”

Ransom turned back to you, chuckling. He pushed your glass, guiding it up to your lips. “Drink up.” You did as he asked and almost choked when he made you finish the entire thing. “Now, let me ask you again… want to show me again?”

No. He had not simply been in a bad mood the last couple of times. He was still the same inconsiderate, entitled jerk.

You did not answer him, at loss for words.

“Fine. Thought you would feel more at ease in your bedroom, but I guess here is just as well.” You made to protest but he interrupted, “Malcolm isn’t coming home tonight. I asked because I invited them to do dinner too, but he declined since they are going up north to see Alyssa’s parents. Fortuitous for me.”

Finishing his drink in a quick gulp, he grabbed both your glasses and placed them on the mantel above the fireplace. Before you could react, he tugged you to him, his mouth crashing into yours. You tried to recoil but he held tight, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. He turned you, forcing you up against the wall to further prevent you from escaping.

His hands slipped up underneath your dress, gripping at your thighs.

“Hey!” you finally were able to exclaim when he came up for air. You tried to push him away. “Ransom!”

“Yes?” he asked condescendingly, forcing you back against the wall erasing the small amount of space you had carved out for yourself with the shove. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes! Stop!” you told him, trying to escape underneath his arm but he blocked your attempt, pressing his body weight against you. “Please!”

“What? You don’t like me?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t even know you!”

“Oh, but you want to know me. And you want to know my family. That is clear as day,” Ransom stated, leaning in close, his nose almost brushing yours. “A girl from a modest family trying to get a leg up in the world…” He smirked. “Truth be told, I would love to get your leg up. But first…”

He forced you to your knees, your face close to his crotch. You tried to push yourself up and away, but he grasped your hair and you stilled, gasping at the tug he administered when you had tried to move again.

Ransom’s free hand came down to your cheek, caressing gently. His thumb brushed over your lips as you shakily made eye contact with him. His pupils were beginning to dilate, desire glaring as his tongue ran across his lip. He hand cupped your jaw and he murmured, “You keep saying you’re sorry. I want you to show me how sorry you are.”

You gaped and he grinned, “That’s the spirit, keep it open.”

Gasping when he shoved your cheek up against him again, you felt his hardening dick through his pants. “Come on, Y/N. Be a good girl. I know you know how to do this. A girl like you? From a modest family not in the area? You didn’t get through school just on brains alone. Had to make connections somehow.”

Anger coursed through you at his words and you tried to push away from him once more, but he just wound his hand tighter in your hair causing you to wince. Tears pricked at your eyes as your anger melted to humiliation as he grinded his length up and down your cheek.

Yanking you away, he stared down at you, tickled at the expression on your face.

“You want to use my mother to get into the business world with a bang. It’s understandable, she’s great at what she does. And she has those connections in her hand to give you. All you gotta do is charm her and give her results.”

“But I want you to have to work a little harder for it. You know I can say one thing to my mother, and she won’t have anything to do with you ever again.” He ran his fingers across your lips forcibly. “So, you’re going to open that pretty little mouth of yours and you’re going to show me one, how sorry you are and two, how badly you want to break out of your situation.”

When you did not answer he gave your head a little shake, “Right, Y/N?”

You licked your lips, a tear escaping. Horsley, you answered, “Right.”

He unzipped his trousers, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxer briefs. You stared at the length in front of you, trying to compose yourself. You could do this. You had to do this. You were backed into a corner, literally and figuratively.

Ransom tasted salty as you took him into your mouth. He groaned the further you took him in, increasing your speed the wetter you made him. His fingers at the back of your head were digging in, forcibly pushing you further to take him even deeper. Tongue swirling, you drew low moans of pleasure from him.

Suddenly, both his hands grasped the sides of your head, holding you in place. He thrusted, using you and you struggled to stay steady on your knees with his violent jolts. Loud grunts left his lips, animalistic and savage. You gagged, a few tears running down your cheeks. He was hitting the back of your throat so roughly you thought you were going to get sick.

Fortunately, he pushed you away. Gasping for air, you rubbed at your throat, trying to ease the discomfort.

He grasped your arms and yanked you from the floor. In a fluid motion, he spun the two of you around to face the back of the couch. His hand pressed to the small of your back and your face came to contact with the couch cushions.

Ransom forced himself between your legs, kicking one out to the side to give himself more room.

“A-a condom?” you choked out.

“You’re on birth control, aren’t you?” he asked, hiking your dress up.

“Y-y-yes.”

He chortled and said to himself more than anything, “Well, we will have to fix that for next time.”

You bucked forward when you felt his fingers slipping inside you, rubbing at your clit. You whimpered feeling yourself get wetter with each stroke. You were getting close; he was skilled at pushing you towards falling over the edge.

But he wanted to be inside you for that; his fingers left and his head replaced them.

When he pushed himself inside, you cried out adjusting to his girth. He moaned loudly, bottoming out. He let out a little laugh before pulling out and slamming back in. Your hands gripped the cushions trying to give yourself some sense of balance as he rammed into you repeatedly.

Ransom was holding tight at your hips, his own snapping off your ass hard enough that it was going to bruise. Each stroke of his cock against your clit sent a flow of pleasure through you until it was like a wave breaking. Broken whimpers echoed as you convulsed around him. When he came with a loud shout, you felt him fill you, his cock twitching inside.

His grip went lax at your hips and he reached underneath, and you squeaked when he pinched at your oversensitive clit.

“That was cute,” he husked, his hands slowly running up your sides. One of his hands snaked around your neck and he pulled you back up to his chest, still fully seated inside you.

“Mhm, yeah,” Ransom breathed against your ear, his fingers flexing in and out on your neck. “I think if you keep this up, you will be the epitome of the type of girl I want to bring home to my parents.”

<> <> <>

…PRESENT

Ransom never let you out from underneath his thumb, not that he needed to try too hard. You knew that if you divorced him, you had nothing. You had signed a prenup and even if you thought you could make it without money, there would be bad blood with the Drysdales and with how much influence they had on the area, you would have a huge obstacle to overcome.

Yes, you got to work with Linda, and you had influence with her. But it was still her business, not yours.

You had gotten what you wanted mostly though.

A family. Money. A place in the business world.

It just came with a price.

Ransom’s hand gripped your leg underneath the table, sliding past the hem to the inside of your thigh.

“Now I have two precious things in this world to me,” he said in response to his father.

Another perfectly crafted smile from you.

And he still had that malicious glint in his eye, even as he leaned in and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Good girl,” he breathed so only you could hear.

[macchiatooru]

ᴬⁿ ᵃˡˡ⁻ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ³ʳᵈ ᵍʸᵐ ˢqᵘᵃᵈ?

With Kenma? And Lev and Hinata? Absolute College AU vibes? Despite my doubts about the productivity, I definitely need this. It’s around 1AM as I type, and I literally have three papers to finish, with one due tomorrow. HAHAHAHAHA. (I wrote this note last night, so it’s not entirely applicable now, but well- I have to submit the second tomorrow and the third the following day... I hope HAHAHA)

Note: If you’re also up at such ungodly hours and want to add to this when you’re stuck with a paper too, or a lesson, or something, go ahead! If you want to modify something, don’t hesitate to say it!

The situation, for example, is that you’re writing a paper, and you don’t know how to continue it anymore. Luckily, you have enough options to kill the time until your brain is working properly again. The apartment―whoever owns it, maybe you guys were sharing or had connecting ones or were neighbors or whatnot―would literally look like, I don’t know, a convention? It’s like there are different stalls with different activities. Take your pick!

Tsukishima’s Corner:

I can imagine that he has this set-up in the far end of the living room where he has a table against the wall and a chair with a blanket on it

And he always has a drink with him, whether it’s a soda or an Iced Americano. (that just gave me Yoongi vibes ahhh my heart)

Of course, he has his headphones on. Not surprising.

He’s pretty calm when he does his schoolwork, and his focus is just wow

So, don’t expect him to pay attention to you that much. Again, not surprising.

If you have an actual question though, I think you can ask him!

He’ll help you out, but be wary of the sass and teasing.

It’s highly possible for him to annoy the shit out of you before you guys solve the problem, btw.

If you have chips with you, he’ll take some without asking permission smh but he’s so idufhsdbkfhda can you really say no?

You can get back at him by repetitively calling him “Tsukki”.

“Cut it out.”

“No can do, Tsu~ Kki!”

Emphasize! the! syllables! because he probably lowkey thinks it’s kinda cute

Unless he doesn’t and he throws the blanket at your face to shut you up

Don’t annoy him when he’s in a bad mood, okay?

He’ll really appreciate it if you give him space on those days

But he’ll also appreciate it so so so much if you’re the one who hands him his usual drink.

Despite being the person who could really rile you up the most

He’s actually nice... in his own way!

Lev and Hinata’s “Quiet” Pile of Pillows:

What am I even saying?

There’s nothing quiet about that part of the living room.

Lev and Hinata like studying in their “own kind of comfort”

And that is with their “study” blankets―they have separate ones for sleeping―on the floor and their pillows on top.

They study with the TV on

A series on Netflix is playing the entire time.

Nobody minds, really, because for some reason, most of you can study with some noise in the background. Those who can’t, however, just listen to music on their own.

They have hot or iced chocolate―depends on their mood―made either by you, Akaashi, or Kuroo.

You never asked Bokuto to do it again. Never again.

One time, he made the mistake of giving the “kids” coffee, and well, was that some night.

Lev and Hinata have common classes, so they work on some of their assignments together.

Expect them to be very excited when they get something right and very frustrated when they can’t understand what they’re doing.

Probably just a spot for you to take a quick break, maybe lie your head down on Lev’s favorite pillow to annoy him.

It’s not because he doesn’t want to share, but because you just took it right out of his lap.

They’ll be really happy kiddos if you join them! Please give these babies the attention they need.

Also, it helps to give them snacks to shut them up.

Bokuto’s Spot on the Couch:

That became his permanent spot after Akaashi sent him there because of that one time that big baby reaaally got on his nerves.

He has a pillow supporting his back as he leans against an armrest, legs stretched out in front of him and laptop on his, well, lap. HAHAHA sorry

He also likes working with the TV on, so it was a suitable place for him.

Bokuto’s drink would either be a can of soda or a protein shake.

Keep your phone on standby.

You have to take a pic of the pouty face he makes when he doesn’t get something.

He’s so cute he can have my heart-

“Akaashiiiii~ Why won’t you help me out?”

Akaashi would remind him that not only was he a year higher, but he also had a different major.

*cue Bo’s emo mode with matching droopy hair fml he’s literally so cute*

He gets distracted easily because he never puts his phone on silent

Probably chats with Konoha idk

Or gets carried away watching game highlights.

He already startled all of you a few times.

“OOOOOOOOOOOH. DAAAAAAAAAAAMN. THAT WAS SO GOOD.”

“Bokuto-san-”

If you choose to go to him, he can’t really help you with the paper you’re writing.

However, he gives THE BESTEST HUGS!

I think a lot of us agree that he’s a walking heater, so getting a hug from that beefy boi? Especially when it’s cold?

H E A V E N

Or that’s just me being biased, but is it really just me?

I love him.

Kuroo’s Kitchen Kounter:

Now, I’m definitely sure I’m being biased because- I mean- JUST-

One of the kitchen counters faces the common living area where everyone is spread out.

Imagine walking from wherever you were previously just staring at your laptop with that constant 132 words plastered on the corner of the screen and you’re well-aware that it has to be 2000 by tomorrow

And seeing business-related major Kuroo, sitting on a stool, immersed in his work, Excel sheets and documents being the only inhabitants of his laptop screen?

I’m literally giving myself away I-

He has glasses on and he’s tapping the end of his pen on his chin and at this point I’m hyperventilating

THE FACE HE MAKES WHEN HE CONCENTRATES

From time to time, he would swivel the stool around, take a sip of the black iced coffee he always brews at night, and eat whatever snack was available (e.g. chips, popcorn, sandwiches, instant noodles, sometimes asks Bokuto to make another protein shake, etc.)

He doesn’t really listen to music and can easily drown out the noise on his own because he concentrates so much.

You can always count on him to entertain you

Because despite the amount of focus he puts into his homework and problem sets, he also wants any excuse to tear his eyes of his screen.

He’s good at papers, so he can help you with that in the best way he can

Also asks if you would like to take a break and grab a snack with him

And can be a flirt if he’s in the mood, but when he’s tired, he has a soft and sleepy smile (except he’s not really sleepy because of the coffee, he’s just not putting that much effort)

Although he will annoy and provoke you while the two of you are on break

He’s the best person to cry to when you’re really stressed out.

I want him.

Akaashi’s Atelier:

He literally owns the dining table, his work neatly spread out.

I can almost imagine him studying architecture

But nah I guess he just really likes practicing how to capture anything and everything he can observe

And by capturing, I really mean that there’s a pile of photos there somewhere.

Afterwards, he draws them, paying attention to every detail.

He finishes schoolwork before any of you do.

His concentration surpasses that of Kuroo’s, no joke.

You can’t disturb him when he’s working on his academic requirements, so come back later when he’s sketching the hours away.

If you want to do your paper beside him though? Go.

His concentration is not only top tier but also contagious.

He’ll share the dining table, but only to you and, occasionally, Kuroo.

Bokuto? Only if he’s super emo.

Akaashi’s really nice!

He’ll initiate a conversation with you if you’re taking a break and he’s just on his sketchbook or experimenting with graphic design or something.

If you want to see a passionate but shy Akaashi, ask him what he’s working on.

I just know his eyes will literally light up.

He might be drinking tea, mint tea?

Water most of the time, but he always smells like mint and fresh laundry ahhh be still, my heart

Go to him if you really want to be productive and not get distracted by anything else because his eyes and the way he’s so into what he’s doing might actually be what distracts you

He is the epitome of grace under pressure, such a beautiful human being ha ha ha I wish

Kenma’s Den:

Well, what did you really expect?

Nah, kidding.

Kenma’s the only one in his room because he’s probably streaming.

His audience is mostly up at night, so yeah.

He definitely has ramen, chips, and soda

Which he’s willing to share with you as long as you don’t mess his game up don’t try I swear

Tbh, it’s actually really comforting to stay in his room especially when you’re really stressed out.

You can rest your eyes and take a quick nap.

He knows that he should wake you up after fifteen minutes, so don’t worry about sleeping through the night without finishing your paper.

He’s so sweet please

It’s so comforting to hear his fingers tapping away, a literal lullaby that gets you every time.

At some point, some people probably caught you slipping under his duvet IT WAS YOUR FIRST LOWKEY SCANDAL HAHAHAHAHA

Which lasted for just an hour because Kenma’s viewers knew him enough to know what his facial expressions meant

He definitely can’t help you with your paper. Such a busy boi.

But if he’s in the lobby that’s what you call it, right? of whatever game he’s playing, he’s willing to listen to your rants.

A quiet listener, but you know that he genuinely cares about you.

Massage his shoulders if you can! He likes that.

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☪ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

background photo by NeONBRAND on unsplash