#while JETTING OFF EVERYWHERE ON BUSINESS CLASS. I JUST. ?!?-&:&/!:!:!:$:

[akkaweo-akkaweo]

Rare Encounters

Na Goeun x F!reader

Tags: scissoring, thigh riding

WC: 3.6k

—————

Everyone at school loved Na Goeun. No one knew how she could handle it all: being in student council, joining the drama club, and still managing to almost make it as class valedictorian (rank 2 isn't half bad though). She never had a bad rep or record, except that she had rejected almost every boy that asked her out. On the few occasions she did indulge in a date, that would be the last of it.

Something about that drew you to her. She was already nice enough to help you out in the few lab activities you got paired together for. She even got you some candy on the last day of class, which, while she did give to several other people, probably meant she remembered you enough to give one to.

Fast forward to today, and... actually, you don't know what happened to her. No one did.

It wasn't something bad or negative though; it's just that she had fallen off practically everyone's radars. Some say she got into a prestigious college under a pretty tight scholarship; others say she auditioned and is training for some entertainment company given her drama background. But the fact was, no one had a definitive answer.

That was, until your class reunion.

The buzz spread like wildfire. Your phone with a dozen different groupchats couldn't stop vibrating when someone sent a screenshot of the LINE message inviting everyone to come. Clear as day, Na Goeun sent a reaction.

"You think she'd actually go?," asked Ireh, sitting beside you and your friend Dosie at a cafe nearby your old school. The three of you still kept in touch, and just as you frequented this small coffee shop back then, you found yourselves coming back to it when everyone had the time.

"Beats me. Maybe she's so busy she butt pressed it and hasn't seen it.," Dosie remarked.

"Come on," you added. "That's so unlikely. Besides... it should be impossible for her to not be interested. It's Goeun. She had friends everywhere."

"Sometimes, an introvert can look a lot like an extrovert. Maybe we just never saw her being exactly that," Dosie replied.

"I suppose that makes sense," Ireh said. "Still wouldn't explain how she managed to stay introverted for 6 years."

Ireh and Dosie were both on a break from training at different arts schools. You on the other hand were taking a science course – likely thanks to Goeun for making it not as intimidating to you in the first place – and so when the two had to return to their dorms, you stayed on. The store owner knew you by now since you would often work quietly in the corner until the shop closed at around 10:30PM.

Tonight, however, someone new entered just before the store closed shop. It was a petite woman with long, jet black hair, with an aura and poise you almost couldn't believe you were seeing for the first time in years.

It was Goeun, in the flesh. And seeing her just as beautiful as before sent your chest in knots.

See, what no one really knew was that while it was primarily guys that had crushes on Goeun, you're pretty sure girls, like you, did too. You never threw away the wrapper of that candy she gave you. You cherishes every day marveling at Goeun tutoring you every lab session. And everyone's collective investment on whether she would be at the reunion did nothing but rekindle those feelings.

Now, Goeun existed in your world and only yours. Despite that sounding a lot creepier than it actually is, it was the truth. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be the only one with her, just this once.

"Goeun-ssi," you said softly, hoping she'd turn around. She didn't.

You slink back in your chair, embarassed. Maybe it's not so good an idea to bother her? Like Dosie said, maybe she just never was the type to socialize, and the last thing she'd need at 10PM was some random person to bother her night munchies.

What you don't notice as you hide yourself in your hoodie and close your eyes as you think of that is that, as Goeun finishes placing her order in, she turns around as she jams to the music she's playing on her AirPods. And right as you open your eyes, she looks up from her phone.

"Wait," Goeun said. "You look familiar."

You reply nervously. "Yeah, uh... we were lab partners a few times. Under Baek-seonsaengnim?" You realize hiding in your hoodie might be making it harder for her to remember, so you lift your hoodie and remove your mask.

"Oh!," she exclaimed. "It's you! Hi! Oh wow, I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you! How have you been? Pardon me." Flustered, she put her earbuds away.

"No it's okay! I was just about to head home," you respond, closing your notebook and laptop quickly. "I don't want to keep you."

"No, please, don't worry about it! I just happened to come by the area. Before the reunion," she added.

So she did plan to go. Guess Dosie was wrong.

"Tell you what," she said. "Do you still live nearby? The apartments just up the road?"

"Not too far from that, you turn left by the convenience store instead of going straight," you respond.

"Oh neat! I'm not that far from you then. Why don't I join you for a bit?," she replied.

"It's okay! I can manage," you add shyly.

"Nonsense, it's late. I got you," she rebutted. "Besides, it's nice to see you again! You have to tell me how you've been."

You warm up a bit, and open yourself to being a bit more chatty. "Same here."

Waiting for your coffee, you try and make the first move. "Funny, I was just with Dosie and Ireh a few hours ago."

"Really! How are they? They still into performing?," she asked.

"Yeah. They're not classmates though, but I think they're both going to try out at the same theatre group when they graduate soon."

"That's great! Wow, it's so nice to actually hear from our classmates nowadays."

"Wait, so you haven't met anyone? None at all? In six whole years?"

"Well... I did spot Chaein from afar, you remember her right? From my section? Anyway, there was a time she saw me from afar while I was waiting for a bus, but before she could say hi, I had to go. Otherwise, no, probably just some random guys I actively tried to not run into when I caught them," she replied. "And, well, you! Right now!"

As you both step out of the cafe with fresh cups of coffee in hand, you head the way home. It's finals week for first semester, so the air is cold and damp.

After a few seconds of silence, only disrupted by the crunching of feet on asphalt, Goeun speaks up. "So... I'm pretty sure you're gonna ask me where I've been."

"Well... yeah. But I figured you had your reasons. I mean... you did, right?," you asked. "Not that it affects me or anything, it's just... I always thought you would, I don't know, be an actress or an idol, or literally anything–"

"Wah, jjinja?," she exclaimed. "Gosh no, I don't think I could make singing and drama my entire life."

"So what was your life then?"

"College."

What you thought was a pause turned out to be a full stop. "Wait, that's it? No scholarship, no special gigs? Just college?"

"No, of course not! Seriously, why does everyone assume I just get these things?," she laughed, seemingly shocked by the assumption.

"Because you were THE Na Goeun?!," you said incredulously. "Everyone thought you'd be out there in the world, not disappearing off the face of it," you retort.

"Hey, for what it's worth, I finally got to do some things I couldn't before. Jog more frequently, record songs instead of just performing, go skiing during winter. It's fun."

"But did you not miss any of it?"

"Any of what?" she presses, looking puzzled.

"The attention? The social life? Being loved by everyone?"

She looks up for a few seconds pondering on her answer. "Well, that's a lot to answer. First... I guess I did miss it a bit. Not enough to seek it out though, as you can tell. And second, I honestly just step away from it all, you know? I wanted to lay low, just excel quietly without getting attention, graduate, and do whatever it is I have to do to earn money nowadays. Does that answer your question?"

"I... yeah," you reply, shocked by both how much and how little you know of Goeun.

"But for the record," she glared at you, eyebrow raised with a smirk, "I succeed for no one other than myself."

You clicked your tongue and pointed at her. "There's the Goeun I know."

You both laugh as you share stories, struggling – and barely succeeding – not to wake up all your neighbors. You must have failed either way, because right in the middle of your conversation, rain suddenly pours, drenching both you and Goeun. You run to your porch, fortunately only about a hundred meters away, and laugh even harder when you both process what just happened.

"Don't even think about going home in this rain. I'm so sorry!," you said.

"Are you kidding? This is the most fun I've had in a while!," she replied.

"Please, dry yourself off inside! You can stay over until the rain subsides."

Walking Goeun up the stairs provided an all-important reality check: you were bringing your high school crush, who until now remained a mystery to everyone else, and is still pretty as hell even drenched, to your place, alone?

You power through the growing anxiety and successfully reach your apartment. It wasn't the biggest, considering your parents were the ones fully paying for it, so having a second person already made the place feel twice as stuffed.

You point Goeun to the bathroom to freshen herself up first, while you search for some spare clothes you could lend her. The flannel and jeans you were wearing sent sharp sensations of cold all over your body, so you instinctively remove them, leaving you in your underwear. In your rush to find clothes for Goeun, you miss her unlock the bathroom door and step out, herself also in just a sports bra and her underwear. When you turn around, you give a slight yelp.

"Ai, I'm sorry!" Goeun said, hiding behind the door. You both shuffle around awkwardly trying to find a way to get dressed, but, perhaps to break the awkwardness, she adds, "You have a nice body, you know that?"

You feel your body scrunch up a bit, trying to hide yourself. But Goeun walks up to you, grabbing towels you hung on a chair to cover both you and herself up. As she wraps your shoulders in a towel, she places a hand over the arm you've placed over your chest, trying to ease you up.

"Hey, it's okay," she reassured. "I know we're not close, but you don't have to be so shy." She looks at you, and your eyes meet. She always had very pretty eyes, accentuated by their size and the way they glisten in the light.

"If only I was as pretty as you, maybe," you blurt out suddenly. When you realize what you just did, you take your other hand and cover your mouth, shocked and scared. Even she looked surprised, and the two of you stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

Both of you were trying to formulate whole ideas, but Goeun is the first to get a word out.

"I... think you're pretty too," she said.

Another round of staring. You barely notice it, but now you're almost up to each others' bodies. Fuck it, here we go I guess.

"I thought you were pretty ever since high school," you add. "I even kept that candy you gave me on the last day of school."

"Did you really?," she giggled. "You know, I gave you that because I remembered you as a lab partner."

"Why, was it because I barely helped? I'm sorry if I was too much for you to carry."

"No no, not like that... because back then, I'd see the way you look at me with those eyes, and it was cute. I remembered that."

You aren't that much taller than Goeun (maybe less than half a head), but you can feel yourself having to look down a bit more as you move your body closer to her.

"Goeun...," you whisper, "every time some guy asked you out and you rejected them, I always thought I'd actually be able to make you happy. But I also accepted I'd never be able to tell you that I liked you."

"Well," she says, as she tipped on her toes and plants a kiss on your cheek. "now's your chance. Do you perhaps... still like me now?," she asked innocently.

Your heart thumps all the way into your eardrums, but, with how close she was to you, you could feel her heart beating quickly as well. You're lightheaded, but at the same time aware of everything around you, most especially Na Goeun looking into your eyes with a smile.

You press your forehead into hers and close your eyes. No point hiding anything now.

"Yes, Goeun-ssi, I still like you."

She chuckled again, though sounding a bit nervous. "Please, I think we're past the point of you calling me that way. Just call me Goeun."

At that moment, a switch flips: literally, in that both of you have unwittingly backed into a light switch in the room; and figuratively, in that after exchanging a quick laugh, you both lean in together for a kiss. It was soft, gentle, and also unsure, but a second kiss erases all that fear.

Every moment your lips parted came longer than the last. You were immersed in the warmth of someone you've dreamt about in the past, and that's all that mattered then and there.

You break your kiss, and guide her to the edge of your bed. Goeun stares at you, for once seemingly unsure of what to say, and you move your hands to the sides of her chest. She gives a quiet nod, and you work her bra and panties off her. She does the same, moving her hands to your hips, and you nod in return. You both had a language only both of you could understand, and it burned you up inside.

When you pull her to the bed however, Goeun is just staring into your eyes still, like she's trying to say something.

"Is everything okay? Am I going too fast?," you ask, trying to calm her.

"No, it's just... this is my first time with a girl, and I haven't done anything like this in... I don't even remember," she replied.

You give a warm, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, this is my first time too. We'll... figure this out together I guess?," you added. She closes her eyes and smiles, looking more relaxed than a minute ago. She always was a perfectionist.

"No one's ever told me that before," she said, looking shocked from the statement. "Okay."

Both of you resume making out. Still not intense nor heavy, just enough to focus on each others' lips. Time to time, you or Goeun would pause to just look at your other half, and continue. Every pause you snuggle closer – perhaps still cold from the rain pouring outside. And, when your eyes lock, you giggle and keep going.

She breaks the rout with a light kiss on your nose. "You're cute when you have nothing to say."

You feel your cheeks flush. "If you're going to tell me you've been flirting with me ever since lab, I'm going to freak."

"If I managed to learn to flirt between then and now, it's a miracle," she replied. "But I mean it. You're cute in a way other guys can't be."

You place a hand over her cheek, rubbing it with your thumb. "I really hope this isn't a dream," you say, before kissing Goeun again.

"I don't think dreams would feel this real," she laughed.

You start making out again, your hands now straying to different parts of each others' body. Goeun's hand slides down your chest, pausing between your breasts, your hand works up her spine to the back of her head.

You pull her in closer, sliding your leg between hers, and hers between yours. You can feel the warmth of her core, and you're sure she can too. Both of you connect with a jolt; you feel Goeun's breath stagger. She looks at you again, with a look that said "it's okay, I'm yours."

You start to rub yourself on her leg, and she follows suit. Slick builds up on your thigh, and deep breaths trail behind. You can't hold back your moans, but neither does Goeun; her whimpers of pleasure are fed straight into your ear. The harder both of you grind, the harder you pull her closer to you, as if wanting to experience your stimulation as one whole.

"Does it feel good?," you ask under your breath.

"Yes, shit, I want more."

You're now determined to do one thing and one thing only: make Goeun feel good. You prop yourself up on a knee to get on top of her; her petite body rises and falls with her heavy breaths. She tries to get up on her elbows to meet you, but you place a hand on her chest. "Let me," you whisper, and she plops back down.

You feel around her folds, glistening and sticky from the stimulation you gave her. You give her one last glance, and her eyes are closed, ready to take you in. You slide a finger in, and Goeun gasps, feeling all of you in her. Her breaths are giggly, trembly expressions of pleasure, and it unsurprisingly turned you on. You reciprocated the pleasure with a second finger, causing her to lurch her back in ecstasy.

"Hah, that's so good! Please don't stop!," Goeun begs. You have never imagined her to be on the receiving end of anything, much less this, but you're committed to make her keep begging for more – as a metric of her enjoyment, of course.

You didn't anticipate, though, how much of a quick study Goeun could be, as she forces herself up and reaches a hand towards your groin. You feel a finger graze your clit, causing you to squeak, and Goeun continued to go crazy on it. Both of you are staring deeply and longingly at each other, legs crossed between each other – and of course, now fingering each other.

You couldn't take it anymore; you needed more of Goeun, and you wanted to give her more of you. You grab her hand out of your pussy and guide it to her mouth, and you do the same to your own. Your moans and movements at this point are so synchronized that when you drag her closer to start scissoring her, you're surprised to slam right into her juicy warmth without much distance covered.

Just like tides slamming and receding back, you and Goeun rub your pussies into each other. Waves of pleasure ripple across your body, and you can feel in the way she trembles in your grasp that so is Goeun. You're hungry for her, and the look in her eyes confirm she wanted to know exactly that. As you creep closer to your edge, a dam bursts open inside your chest, and you grip ever more tightly on to Goeun. She holds on to you just as tightly, enough to be moaning right next to each others' ears yet again.

Suddenly, you couldn't stop yourself from blurting everything you've ever thought about Goeun to her. "Fuck, Goeun, I've always dreamt this, I've touched myself to this dream so many times, please don't leave me! I'll do everything to make you stay! Please don't let me go! I just want to be yours!," you cry out in desperation.

"Yes, yes, yes, baby! You're mine! I'm not letting you go! I want to cum together! I'm so close!," she screams in reply. Those sweet words were enough to finally you make you tremble and leak, just before squirting all over her hips. Your orgasm in turn brought Goeun to her climax, your fluids mixing with each other, consummating your newly forged commitment to each other.

Together, you tip to the side, still locked into that embrace, catching your breath. The moans hidden beneath her breaths are soft but unabated, and you feel satisfied knowing she most definitely enjoyed herself.

When Goeun comes to, you stare at her and give her a kiss on her nose. "You're cuter when you're relaxed."

The gesture appeared to have jolted Goeun to her senses, as she gives a faint smile.

"I'm lucky I found you tonight of all nights," she whispered. Your softest voices were now audible, as the rain had finally subsided.

"And I'm lucky the rain kept you here," you reply. You look outside, thinking what comes next after this, and Goeun responded immediately by using her forehead to pull yours in.

"I'm not going anywhere," she reassured.

"Not even the reunion?," you taunt, giving a childish pout.

"Of course I'm going to that, silly," she giggles. "Only if you promise to come with me."

"It's a date then," you reply. "Finally."

—————

A/N: hope this one surprises the few plorys out here in the wild. hopefully i get to make for kween dosie next

[kurowrites]

Aviophobia

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

---

It wasn’t like Wei Ying particularly hated air travel, not at all. After all, it was still the most practical way to travel long distances, and the distance between China and Europe was definitely long. The problem was that though he had just sat down in his seat, he was already horrifically bored. The airplane hadn’t even finished boarding yet, and there were around ten hours of flight still in front of him, and he couldn’t wait to arrive at his destination already.

He wasn’t looking forward to the flight, not least because he didn’t actually want to leave. After a year of not seeing her, Wei Ying had finally been able to take some time off and visit his sister, who had been living abroad with her stupid, loaded husband. He’d spent two weeks with Jiang Yanli and his little nephew, and it had been so good to see them again. A-Ling had grown so much! But now, a lot of work was waiting for him back at home, and he really needed to return, not sure when they would be able to meet the next time. That, he definitely wasn’t happy about.

Wei Ying distractedly fidgeted around in his seat, trying to keep in mind that it was no use to take out his laptop now, because the flight attendants would ask him to pack it up again for take-off in a few minutes. He had taken a book with him, anticipating this situation, but right now, the book seemed so unappealing he couldn’t even be bothered to unpack it from his backpack.

Come on, he mentally urged the passengers who were still moving along the aisles in search of their seat like a group of very slow snails, move faster, so we can leave.

Despite his best efforts, the other passengers did not speed up their pace, and so Wei Ying was cursed to sit there and wait until everyone was seated. He tried not to notice the usual offenders that managed to get in everyone’s way and blocked everything with their luggage, and tried to relax (rather unsuccessfully).

As he was idly watching the passengers pass him by, he caught a flash of white that caught his attention. Just when he was sure that his eyes were playing a trick on him, a man in a pristine white suit separated from the crowd and sat down right next to him. He pushed his briefcase under the front seat, fastened his seat belt, nodded to Wei Ying once, and then directed his glance straight forward, turning into a beautiful marble statue.

Wei Ying tried not to stare at his new neighbour too conspicuously, but he couldn’t really help it. The man seemed to be horribly out of place here in economy class, with a tailor-made white suit that very obviously was of high quality and therefore very expensive. His face equally set him apart from the other passengers, with a noble look and a bone structure that looked more suited to the cover of a fashion magazine. Wei Ying, in a simple hoody, soft jacket, and old jeans that were selected specifically for comfort purposes (after all, he would have to vegetate in them for ten hours), wondered how this unicorn had gotten lost among the common folk.

His seatmate was incredibly handsome, obviously wealthy, and… extremely stiff.

When the flight attendant finally announced that boarding had been completed, and that they were waiting for permission to proceed to the runway, the man next to him put his hands on both armrests, and for a second, Wei Ying was ready to be offended that this man hogged all the armrests for himself without consideration for the other passengers.

Then he noticed the man’s knuckles going white, his hands holding on to the armrests as if…

Wei Ying looked at the man’s face again. He was still staring straight ahead, his handsome face expressionless, his breath deep and controlled.

His eyes were fixed at some indeterminate point in the distance, and their focus did not waver at all.  

And they weren’t even moving yet.

Oh dear, Wei Ying thought to himself. Someone is not a fan of flying, huh.

He knew that a lot of people probably wouldn’t appreciate his meddling, but then again, he couldn’t sit there and do nothing while his neighbour was counting breaths or whatever the fuck he was doing to calm himself down. He wasn’t going to sit next to this man for the next several hours and pretend that he didn’t notice that this person was very obviously panicking.

So he reached out, and carefully put his own hand over the one currently clutching at their shared armrest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, as quietly as he could. “You’re not alone, and you’re going to be fine.”

The man sucked in a shocked breath the moment Wei Ying touched him.

Wei Ying was ready to draw back and apologise for his unrequested interference, Maybe he shouldn’t have touched him, maybe he had misread–

The hand under his turned around and grasped his own, holding him fast.

“I apologise,” the stranger replied in a faint tone of voice. “For my unseemly display.”

Wei Ying laughed quietly, relief washing over him.

“It’s alright,” he replied conversationally. “We all have our little burdens to carry. As for me, I am deadly afraid of dogs, and I will jump into your arms when I see one. Not that I have much shame to begin with, but my fear of dogs is definitely bigger than any shame I might have. There will be screaming and a general amount of unnecessary, very ugly drama.”

That, finally, had the stranger remove his gaze from the undetermined point in the distance he had settled on, and he turned towards Wei Ying.

Wow.

Wei Ying had been woefully underprepared for this event. The man was even more handsome, facing him directly, and Wei Ying was sure he had never seen such beautiful eyes.

How, he wondered again, had this man ended up in economy class? He should be flying a private plane, not panicking next to Wei Ying on a commercial flight. He should be someone’s trophy husband.

“Dogs?” the man asked him, as if a fear of dogs wasn’t an entirely normal phobia to have.

“Yes,” Wei Ying replied earnestly. “Have you seen them? So fast, and they make so much noise all the time, and their teeth. Ugh. It’s a completely rational fear to have!”

By now, the plane had moved onto the runway, and was starting the jets up.

The man clutched at Wei Ying’s hand almost painfully as the plane started to vibrate, but surprisingly, he did not look away from Wei Ying, steadily holding Wei Ying’s gaze.

“Well, so is a fear of flying, I guess,” Wei Ying mused as the airplane began to move. “But think about this: it’s far more likely to get mauled by a dog than to get involved in a plane accident. There are dogs everywhere, and you never know when one is going to come around a corner! And some owners really don’t know to handle their dogs. So, you see. My fear is much more rational than yours. Also, I did get mauled by several dogs in the past, you know. It’s not even a theoretical fear for me, I know exactly what those bastards are capable of. Dogs are horrible. Not to mention that it’s too late to do anything about your fear now, anyway. Look. We’ve taken off.”

The man kept clutching his hand and stared at him without replying. Wei Ying didn’t know if he even heard anything Wei Ying had said, what with the noise and the pressure in their ears. But the stranger never looked away, and he never let go of Wei Ying’s hand, so that was good, he thought.

Eventually, when the airplane had gained enough height to level off slightly, and the pressure on the diminished, his handsome neighbour finally let out a deep breath and turned his gaze away.

Wei Ying felt almost disappointed to be relieved of the heavy weight of his gaze.

As he had said, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ridiculous,” his neighbour murmured, eventually, after a long period of silence.

Wei Ying laughed.

“Hello Ridiculous,” he greeted, shaking their still-connected hands playfully. “My name is Wei Ying.”

The man’s head whipped around, and he sent him a positively offended look.

And then, after a beat of silence, he said,

“Lan Zhan.”

---

It needed some careful prodding and digging, but eventually, Wei Ying found out that Lan Zhan the reason why Lan Zhan was on this plain at all was because he had taken over the business trip as a favour to his older brother, who had been unable to travel.

Wei Ying felt the need to tease him for his self-sacrificing sense of familial piety, but he didn’t quite dare to tease Lan Zhan about it. After all, Lan Zhan had done a good thing, at the cost of his own suffering.

Lan Zhan was already bad enough when it came to flying as it was, but then someone had made a mistake with the booking, and he had been booked to fly economy rather than business class on his return trip. Lan Zhan, already at the airport and very troubled by the notion of having to fly, period, had not had the energy to discuss the mistake in his booking and decided to keep his assigned seat. After all, it hardly made any difference whether he was flying business or economy. He would spend the entire flight terrified, either way.

“Well, it was very lucky you ended up choosing economy,” Wei Ying mused. “Now you have a free emotional support pet for the entire flight.”

He grinned cheekily and wiggled Lan Zhan’s hand, still safely encased in his own.

Lan Zhan frowned at the joke.

“I thank you,” he replied regardless. “It is… much easier with you here. But I do not wish to trouble you with my… unfortunate condition.”

What a polite, honest man!

Wei Ying was delighted.

“It’s no trouble at all! You saved me from hours and hours of boredom, so it’s really not just you that’s profiting from this. Are you going to be fine when I have to go to the bathroom though?”

Lan Zhan frowned again, but nodded once.

“Good, good,” Wei Ying praised. “And if you wait for me very nicely, I’m going to get us some snacks from the kitchen. They never bring out the chocolate, which is a crime, really.”

---

In the end, after Wei Ying wheedled out information about Lan Zhan’s job and life for what felt like hours, Lan Zhan managed to relax enough to doze off for a little bit, and they spent the rest of their flight in a repeating pattern of chatting, dozing off, and then being woken up to be served questionable airplane meals.

When they finally touched down at their destination (Lan Zhan once again clutching Wei Ying’s hand as if it was the only lifeline that he had – and Wei Ying trying not to be too happy about that), they took their carry-on luggage and slowly ambled out of the plane, moving towards the baggage claim with the rest of the passengers.

Lan Zhan, as soon as he was out of the airplane and on solid ground again, straightened up and took on a confident stance.

Wei Ying was a little bit in awe. He looked even more handsome and formidable now, in his still pristine white suit. He was even taller than Wei Ying had first thought, definitely taller than Wei Ying, and Wei Ying mused whether there was anything about this man that wasn’t awe-inspiring.

(Well, there was that small case of aviophobia, but who could blame him for that, really.)

Wei Ying felt his hand twitch, and he sternly told himself that it was silly to wish for them to continue holding hands, now that they were out of the plane.

“Well,” he said awkwardly as he grabbed his luggage off the conveyor belt. He wasn’t quite willing to say his goodbyes yet, but he was equally unable to think of any reason to hold on to Lan Zhan’s company for a little longer. “I had a good time on our flight, Lan Zhan. Well. I guess you don’t really want to hear that. You probably had a horrible time. For your sake, I hope that you won’t come close to any planes for a while.”

“Wei Ying, too,” Lan Zhan replied. “For your sake, I hope that you will not meet any dogs suddenly coming around corners. So that you don’t have to leap into anyone’s arms.”

Wei Ying gaped, and as he stared at Lan Zhan in disbelief, he noticed the smallest uptick of Lan Zhan’s lips.

“Ayoo!” he cried. “Lan Zhan, are you teasing me? Look at you, all confident now that you are back on solid ground! Be a little more grateful to your emotional support pet!”

Lan Zhan nonchalantly picked his (very small, compared to Wei Ying’s big, lumpy one) suitcase up from the conveyor belt, and placed it next to his feet.

“I am grateful,” Lan Zhan said, serious again. “I have a car waiting for me outside. You are welcome to join me. I will drop you off anywhere in the city. As a sign of my gratitude.”

“Mmm,” Wei Ying made a considering noise. He didn’t want to say goodbye yet, not when Lan Zhan made him such a nice offer. But then, he was also really hungry.  

“I would love to get chauffeured around, but to be honest, I was planning on getting some decent coffee and a nice breakfast somewhere first. The food in that plane was horrible and I’m not functional without decent coffee.”

Lan Zhan was quiet for a moment.

“Can you wait for half an hour?”

“Huh?”

But before Wei Ying could ask him to elaborate, Lan Zhan was already herding Wei Ying towards the exit. He somehow managed to argue Wei Ying into accepting the car ride (Lan Zhan didn’t even argue, how that worked, Wei Ying sure didn’t know), and then Lan Zhan drove him to the nicest little shop for the most delicious breakfast that Wei Ying could have possibly wished for.

He was ravenous by the time they arrived, but he definitely wasn’t in a mood to complain as soon as the first delicious whiff of fresh coffee and food met his nose in welcome.

Lan Zhan was very attentive as they sat down to eat, generously plying Wei Ying with coffee, and letting him pick all his favourite foods. Wei Ying also learned that when Lan Zhan wasn’t scared for his life, he was remarkably smart and funny. It was so easy to get comfortable with him that Wei Ying had a hard time believing that they had never met until just one day ago.  

Lan Zhan was fun.

“Lan Zhan, you’re joking,” Wei Ying laughed, playfully swatting at Lan Zhan’s arm. “Your first serious family fight was because of rabbits?”

“They were very cute,” Lan Zhan replied seriously, insistent on the point.

Wei Ying leaned forward eagerly, meeting Lan Zhan’s serious mien with a big grin.

“And then, what happened with them?” Wei Ying asked. “Did your uncle cook them in a pot? Were you forced to eat rabbit stew?”

“The fourth generation now lives in my back garden.”

Wei Ying gasped. “You kept them?”

Lan Zhan showed the barest twitch of his lips. “Of course.”

Wei Ying nearly slid under the table at the sight of Lan Zhan’s proud little smile.

If Lan Zhan was trying to seduce him, then Wei Ying would consider himself sufficiently seduced by now.

Goodness gracious, that smile was criminal!

And he was the proud owner of a hoard of rabbits!

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You are a veritable little rebel. But, speaking from one pet to another, there is no way you can only tell me about your rabbits and not show them to me. That would be very rude.”

And on Wei Ying’s request, Lan Zhan took out his phone and showed Wei Ying his rabbit children. And then, since he had his phone out already, he shared his contact with Wei Ying. And when they had finished their breakfast, Lan Zhan led him back to the car and drove him home to his apartment, as promised.

When Wei Ying opened the door of the parked car, ready to hop out Lan Zhan stopped him.

“Thank you, Wei Ying,” he said, his beautiful, serious eyes gazing at Wei Ying steadily, as he had done in the plane. “For your help.”

Wei Ying laughed, and rubbed his nose.

God, he really liked the way that Lan Zhan looked at him.  

“For what it’s worth,” he replied quickly, “I’m willing to be Lan Zhan’s emotional support pet anytime.”

And then, because he felt like was too presumptuous and said too much, he hopped out of the car, grabbed his luggage, and weaselled away, to the safety of his apartment.

Once the door of the apartment was closed and his luggage thrown into a corner, he took a deep breath. He dug his phone out of his jacket to inform Jiang Yanli of his save arrival. She was probably wondering why he hadn’t sent her a message yet.

When he unlocked the phone, as expected, there was a message from his sister, asking him if he had arrived safely. However, before he could send a reply, his phone pinged with another message. A message not from Jiang Yanli.

[Lan Zhan, 11.46 am] I’ll take you by your word, Wei Ying. I might have to rely on your services again.

Suddenly, Wei Ying was glad that no one could see him here, hiding behind the door of his own apartment, as he blushed as red as a tomato.

This man!

[satendou]

⟼ makes the heart grow fonder

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous | 2/2

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime/reader/oikawa tooru

⇢ au: 365!au, poly!au, college!au, pro!oikawa

⇢ summary: prequel to 365 days; everyone always calls paris the city of love, but love can come anywhere, especially the unlikeliest of places

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: pre-relationship, polyamory, fluff, kinda angsty, alcohol use

⇢ word count: 11375 (oops)

Oikawa was nothing if not a creature of habit. He woke up, texted the two of you, showered, ate, went to classes and left for practice, which had been nonstop since he arrived in San Juan. When he got home, he would text you and Iwaizumi-- if he remembered between eating and crashing-- letting you know how practice had gone.

Sometimes he would get home to find some endearing, supportive message from you, letting him know you were going to sleep but that he needed to eat or pay his phone bill. You knew him too well, even from across the globe, and it made him smile, the stinging pain of something missing never stronger than in those moments. It was something he could ignore most days, exchange it for the radiating heat of a ball meeting his palm and forget for a while, but when he was slapped in the face with reminders of what he’d left behind, they were almost impossible to deal with.

He didn’t get to talk with the two of you half as much as he wanted, the 12 hour time difference making it nearly impossible to sync your schedules up, but on the rare nights where everyone was still awake and not quite tired enough to fall asleep yet, he lit up in ways he’d never experienced when he lived with you. 

It made him wonder how much he’d taken for granted.

He couldn’t deny that a part of him was jealous that the two of you got to stay together. That same selfish part of him had come close to picking up the phone and saying he was coming home multiple times after he arrived in Argentina, the feeling was so strong. But the other half, the part that was equally selfish in a different way, couldn’t give up his dreams, not when he’d worked so fucking hard to get there.

On those days, you seemed to know what he was thinking and either you or Iwaizumi, with near psychic accuracy, would call him on his bullshit and things would be okay for a while. Those days had slowly grown less frequent the longer he stayed away, but the jealousy had simply been replaced with longing.

So when you had mentioned a break from school that just happened to coincide with his very first game, he couldn’t resist. Besides, he wanted some familiar faces in the crowd, and who better than you and Iwaizumi? Or his family, but they hadn’t been able to swing it for a myriad of reasons.

Then you had said yes, which was why Oikawa was standing up on his tiptoes at the luggage carousel, trying to see over the people for a glimpse of familiar faces. If he wasn’t looking at the crowd, he was staring at his watch.

Your plane had landed nearly twenty minutes ago, so you should have already disembarked. So why weren’t the two of you there in his arms yet?

“Oi, Brattykawa, you’re looking the wrong way,” a familiar voice sniped from behind him, and he whirled around, nearly losing his balance in his excitement.

“_____! Iwa-chan!” he yelled, throwing his arms around your necks and sending you faltering backwards. 

Only Iwaizumi’s strength kept the three of you up, his arm wrapped around your waist and legs braced under Oikawa’s weight.

“You damn idiot, quit making a scene,” he snapped, but only pushed his friend back far enough to rebalance before squeezing him tight, his fingers curled in the back of the thin t-shirt Oikawa wore.

Your free arm came up around him as well, not nearly as strong but just as familiar and welcome and even though you all secretly swore you wouldn’t cry, tears still spilled over. The feeling of relief, of being whole again was overwhelming, and you linked your fingers with theirs as you moved through the crowd. Oikawa carried one travel case, Iwaizumi the other, and you lugged the shared carry-on bag you had brought. 

Coming out of the airport after a twenty hour flight was a bit jarring and, though the two of you had prepared for a few days in advance and even slept on the plane, you could still feel jet lag kicking in. San Juan time was directly opposite Japanese time, so though you had gotten on your plane in Tokyo in the pitch black, Oikawa had carefully planned the flights and layovers so that you had arrived early in the morning.

The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, and you started sweating almost immediately.

“I can’t wait to show you guys around. But first, you’re probably hungry, right? There’s this cafe right around the corner from our apartment that has the most amazing churros I want you to try,” he rambled as the driver loaded your luggage in the trunk. Iwaizumi slid into the backseat beside you with Oikawa on your other side, all your fingers still linked together. “Oh but I guess we could go after you unpack. Don’t want you to have to drag your luggage everywhere.”

“Thank you for realizing, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi griped, and Oikawa laughed.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so excited for you guys to be here! It’s only been a few months but it feels like a part of me has been missing,” he said, and his fingers squeezed around yours tighter. It was exactly how you had been feeling since he left, like things were off kilter.  

The conversation after that was mostly questions about the flights and the layovers, and how the jet lag was. The longer Oikawa watched and listened, the more he thought something was wrong. 

It wasn’t...wrong wrong, it just seemed like there was something new and different to your interactions with Iwaizumi and vice versa. He would just have to keep an eye out for it, to see if he could discern what it was.

The apartment was the one Iwaizumi had picked out for him months ago, not that anyone was surprised. Usually when he suggested something, Oikawa took it without question. 

As soon as the door was open, you were slammed with the familiar smell that you associated with Oikawa. That light and airy cologne permeated everything, like he had spritzed it everywhere, mixed with the detergent you used at home, or as close as he could get, you would guess. It was a double whammy-- you realized what you had been missing as soon as you got it again, and realized that when you left you would lose it.

It made you wonder what walking into your own apartment would be like.

Before you could get too lost down that train of thought, Oikawa put his hand to your back, leading you further in. Almost absently, Iwaizumi took your hand, letting Oikawa lead both of you to one of the large windows.

Light flooded the large combined kitchen/living room area. He had put curtains up, but they were currently tied back, leaving the windows exposed. The view was breathtaking, just high enough that it rose above most of the other buildings and gave you a long view of the city, marred by other highrises here and there.

He pointed out a large, strange dome shape in the distance, light reflecting off the top back into the city. 

“That’s our stadium. I’ll show you around it later today, if we have time.” he said with a lopsided grin. “Anyway, your rooms are this way! You can pick which ones you want.”

His fingers linked with yours-- it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling your hand in his-- as he led you down the hall opening first one door and then the other.  Both rooms filtered plenty of light, curtains tied up and exposing the decent sized rooms. A bed and dresser decorated each, but that was it. A simple beige color coated the walls and a ceiling fan spun slowly while the air conditioner kicked on. You set your bag down beside the bed and turned to face them again.

“I didn’t expect them to be this big,” you said, looking around. It was across from Oikawa’s, versus Iwaizumi’s, which was right across from the bathroom and closest to the kitchen.

“Sorry they’re so sparse. I figured I’d let you decorate them how you saw fit,” he said, leaning against the frame of the door. “The master is even bigger, but I said the same when I saw them the first time.”

Iwaizumi stood behind him, peering over his shoulder as you surveyed the room, close enough that Oikawa could feel his chest brush against his back. “Are you sure you should be giving these rooms away to just us? You’ll have other guests, won’t you?”

As nonchalant and almost coldly, he shrugged. “They can sleep in here when you aren’t, and there are hotels around the corner. But these rooms were never meant for anyone but you.”

With that, he steered Iwaizumi back down the hall to his room with you hot on his heels. Rifling through his closet, he threw two sets of light aqua sheets at you and Iwaizumi.

You stared at them for a moment, and then Iwaizumi coughed. “Did you pick these colors for a reason?”

Oikawa, busy restacking the things in his closet, stopped and gave him a quizzical look. “Uh, not really. Why?”

The two of you snickered behind your hands, sharing a knowing look before you held the package up higher. “Doesn’t this remind you of anything. A certain uniform, perhaps?”

The color faded from Oikawa’s face just before it all returned in force, a pretty shade of red covering his cheeks. His hand met his face with a loud smack, and he groaned. “I cannot believe I did that. I really did though, didn’t I?”

More snickering met his ears and his lips turned down in a pout. Before he could start to really get into it, you looked up at him and said, “It’s fine, Tooru. They’re very pretty anyway. I like them.”

Beside you, Iwaizumi sighed, his lips quirking up just the slightest bit. “They’ll do. You probably just closed your eyes and picked though, huh?”

Stomping his foot, Oikawa stuck his tongue out, pulling one eyelid down in a very familiar move. “Did not, Iwa-chan! Don’t be mean or I’ll kick you out!”

But Iwaizumi had already turned and headed back across the hall, missing Oikawa’s childish display, while you tried to breathe through your giggles. “Sure you will. You can try, Brattykawa.”

“Poor ______, how have you put up with him without me all this time,” Oikawa asked loudly as he followed you back down the hall, his fingers gripping the back of your shirt. There was this an urge to constantly be near you or touching you in some way ever since he’d first seen the two of you at the airport. It was like there was a magnet, drawing his hand to your back or your hand, a small zing of anxiety and a desire to make sure you were really here. It even extended to Iwaizumi, which he found unusual. Separation really was playing havoc with him.

--

As the day progressed, Oikawa slowly began to realize that your interactions with Iwa weren’t just different, they had changed. The way the two of you revolved around each other was new and a part of him felt shut out as he watched you go about your day. The conversations you had, the stories you told, he didn’t understand any of it and it left an empty feeling in his chest as he realized that in the few months the three of you had been separated you and Iwaizumi had started living a whole new life.

“Oikawa,” you said for the third time, and watched him blink as he refocused on you. You frowned, putting your hand on your hip as you stared up at him. He had been showing you around some of his favorite spots in the city with little enthusiasm and it was starting to worry you. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been out of it for hours now.”

The sun was relentless, so you had stopped at a street vendor for some shaved ice and moved to the shade of a large oak tree. Most of his had melted as he stared off into space, making the paper cone soggy and you watched it drip to the grass. Iwaizumi had thrown away your own garbage and was now staring at Oikawa, waiting for his answer.

But he hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain the foreboding feeling clutching at his heart. It had never occurred to him just how much things would change when he left Tokyo, too focused on himself to consider anything else.

His mouth opened and closed several times, his chocolate brown eyes wide and swimming with an emotion you could only describe as sadness and your stomach clenched. When you reached out to him, he drew you into his arms, burying his face in your hair in a familiar gesture, but even your shampoo had changed.

“Tooru, what’s going on?” you asked, feeling another hand land on your back, overlapping Oikawa’s. You turned your head to look up at Iwa, your heart pounding in your chest. Oikawa’s fingers were twisted in your shirt, and you could feel his heart racing under your hand until you wound your arms around his neck.

Iwa looked down into your face, taking in your wide, nervous eyes asking him to help, but he shook his head and shrugged. He had no more idea of what was going on than you did, but knew that Oikawa would explain when he was able. Whatever had gotten into him was clearly big, and he just needed time to figure himself out.  

It was a few minutes before Oikawa moved, and you were sweating in his hold. There were other people walking by, whispering and pointing, but they quickly scurried off when Iwaizumi turned his ferocious scowl on them. When he did finally shift, it was only to stand up a little straighter and set his chin on the top of your head, locking eyes with Iwaizumi.

“It feels like so much has changed since I left. Like there’s some space between us now that wasn’t there before, and you two are standing on one side and I’m standing on the other,” he said at last, and he sounded as empty as his eyes looked.

Iwaizumi knew that look, it was the “I’m about to shut down and refuse to acknowledge that I’m an idiot and overthinking things” look. If it wasn’t stopped in its tracks right now, the rest of the day was going to be miserable.

Before Iwaizumi could smack him upside the head though, you piped up, voice small and fragile as you clung tighter to Oikawa. All the pent up worries and emotions you had hidden from Iwa flooded out, and he was a little aggravated that the two of you had decided to do this right now in the middle of ninety degree weather.

“I know how you feel. I’ve felt the same for the last few weeks, wondering what it was going to be like seeing you again knowing that you have a whole new life here. I was afraid that-- that you would have changed so much that-- I don’t know,” you tapered off, and then whispered, “I thought you wouldn’t want us anymore.”

He laughed at that, a tight, high noise that carried no humor, but the cold feeling in his chest abated and he relaxed, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your head and suddenly he was comforting you. “Never ever in a million years, _____. You’re too precious to me. Even Iwa-chan, who’s done nothing but bully me all day. I’d never try to replace you. I’d never let anyone replace you.”

And it was so easy to believe he meant it when he held you like that. Rubbing your face against his chest, you smiled. “You’re still such a sap. I should’ve known you hadn’t changed.”

He whined and pinched your side. “Don’t you be mean to me too, _____. I couldn’t take it.”

Squealing, you pushed him away, but he didn’t let you get far. It was hot and your palms were sweaty and it was uncomfortable, but when he laced his fingers with yours, you didn’t complain.

Iwa did though.

“Are you two done? It’s like, 100 degrees and I am melting. You two are such idiots,” he said, scowling at the two of you. His face was red and shiny with perspiration, and he looked seriously annoyed but he was also watching you with a fondness you’d only recently begun to notice. Since that night a few weeks ago, he had been far more affectionate and open, which was saying something because you were already so casually affectionate to begin with.

Poking his tongue out at him, Oikawa tugged you along down the sidewalk with renewed vigor. Iwaizumi grumbled behind but allowed himself to be led by the hand as Oikawa told you about the next place he was going to bring you and about the game in a few days.

“Unfortunately, I have to go to practice tomorrow, but feel free to wander the city, of course. Just please don’t get lost,” Oikawa prattled on, turning a corner onto a street lined with shops. 

The rest of the day was spent investigating every one of them, Oikawa insisting that you get whatever you wanted to decorate your rooms and you obliged only to appease him. It was a little uncomfortable having him pay for everything, but you were weighted down with bags by the time you left the last store. It was mostly clothes, so that you wouldn’t have to pack so much when you visited again and some other small knick knacks that he bought even though you argued against it.

Iwaizumi was carrying far less bags-- at least until he took yours-- mostly because he refused to give into Oikawa’s puppy dog eyes and threatened to maim him if he continued to nag. But Oikawa couldn’t be stopped completely and picked up the things Iwa expressed interest in anyway. Iwaizumi wasn’t happy about it but the look of happiness on Oikawa’s face as he chatted with you, the bags swinging lazily from his arm, made up for it, and he found himself smiling.

The walk back to the apartment was considerably more pleasant without the heat of the sun cooking you alive, and the way first Oikawa then Iwaizumi laced their fingers with yours only made it that much better. There was an indescribable pressure in your chest as you took in the city lights and chatter of people around you. The sounds of sizzling food and smells wafting from street vendors made your mouth water, and Oikawa stopped to purchase a plate of kebabs from one as you passed by.

“You really don’t have to do all this, Tooru. We aren’t poor, you know,” you commented as he passed one to you and then Iwa. Grease dripped down your fingers, and the first bite you took was an explosion of different flavors over your tongue, making you groan. “Shit, this is so good.”

Oikawa watched you with a soft grin, holding his own kebab in his hand but not eating it just yet as he said, “Well there’s not much I’d rather spend it on than you, my little _____.”

The wonder in your eyes as they reflected the lights crisscrossing the street was doing strange things to his stomach, and when those eyes landed on them and the wonder deepened to something more intense, it exploded into butterflies. Something in his head clicked as it changed and he realized you were absolutely beautiful right then and there.

“Shit,” he muttered, and your brows furrowed in confusion as he shook his head. What a weird thought to have, and an even weirder reaction overall. Of course you were beautiful, he had always known that, so why had it hit him so powerfully all of a sudden?

“You alright?” you asked, wiping your mouth with a napkin. Setting your empty stick back on the plate in his hands, you picked up your second one. “You look like you’re in pain.”

He blinked and took a moment to answer, locking eyes with Iwaizumi, who was watching him with curious amusement. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve run all over town like this. The heat must’ve gotten to me.

The heat, huh? Iwaizumi smirked, watching Oikawa watch you with a newfound fascination. He wondered if he even realized he was doing it and how long it would take him to recognize it for what it was.

“Oh, well,” you said, your cheeks heating up for reasons you couldn’t identify. The look in his eyes had changed, emotions you couldn't identify swirling around in his soft brown irises, but it caused your heart to stutter. “Maybe we should go home then. You have practice tomorrow and I’d hate for you to get sick or something. And just before your game too.”

You began to walk as you polished off the last of the food, still struck with wonder at the liveliness of the city. It was different than Tokyo, if no less crowded. Your city was quiet in a lot of ways, tame, whereas this one was wild and loud and raucous. It was enough to make your head spin, and you wondered if you were experiencing culture shock. Only the pressure of Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s slightly greasy fingers kept you from wandering off into the crowds, absorbed as you were with the lights and music.

Oikawa understood all too well, having experienced the same thing when he first arrived as well. He had been grateful for his guide, who had kept him from getting lost and probably mugged or worse in his first few weeks there. Now he knew the layout of the places he most frequented, at least, and he mainly stuck to those.

The street his apartment was on was quiet, the streetlamps casting soft light on the dark buildings with the sun just barely visible on the horizon. You could still hear the faint sounds from the main street, but it was muffled and filtered and you were surprised to find it was almost comforting. It was only nine o’clock, and he wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep yet, even though he knew he really should. He would be up early tomorrow morning and busy all day and probably into the night getting ready for his big game.

There was a sudden rush of nervous energy, one he was used to just before a game, and it never failed that it would keep him up for a while longer.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked, gesturing to the TV. He had a wicked setup, high definition, ultra-surround sound, the works, along with a collection of DVDs and probably every streaming service imaginable to boot. 

But he looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes that you had failed to notice before, and you kicked yourself for not realizing sooner. Stupid, stupid, Oikawa!

“I-- maybe we should head to bed, instead,” you suggested, giving Iwaizumi a pointed look. 

He was quick to catch on and gave Oikawa a once over as the three of you stood in the kitchen The man looked ready to collapse, his hands trembling ever so slightly, but there was some manic glint in his eyes that he recognized as pre-game jitters, and he groaned internally. Oikawa was going to work himself to death, same as usual, only here there was no one to tell him when to quit because it was his job.

“Goddammit,” he muttered, glaring at him. Dealing with Oikawa really was a full time job, even from halfway around the world. Louder, and to your annoyance, he said, “Actually a movie sounds good. I’m not tired quite yet.”

Oikawa perked up from the slump he had gone into and nodded, scurrying across the room to the TV, and you used the opportunity to turn on Iwaizumi.

“Hajime, he looks like he’s going to drop dead. He needs to sleep,” you whispered, eyeing Oikawa. But he was so absorbed in setting up the sound system that he didn’t even realize you were still in the kitchen. “I-- I’m worried.”

Iwaizumi sighed, cupping your cheek. His other hand squeezed your shoulder, and you realized he was no less worried than you. “I know, but what can we do? He’s an adult and not our responsibility anymore.”

Both of you had been with him through his overzealous competition with Kageyama, one or both of you having to literally pick him up from the floor when his knees wouldn’t hold his weight more than once. There had been too many fights and sleepless nights with him about overworking himself and his obsessive need to defeat both Kageyama and Ushijima that you didn’t want to think about what he was doing to himself without someone to yell at him now.

And the way Iwaizumi talked hurt because it was true. He wasn’t, and hadn’t been for months. You hadn’t even really stopped to consider what he might be doing to himself without you and Iwaizumi to knock some sense into him, but it was plain as day that he was working himself to the bone when you stopped to really look at him.

“I know that,” you muttered, but you didn’t really believe it. It was second nature to take care of each other, and that didn’t change just because of a few months apart. Years of friendship trumped that by miles and you weren’t sure that would ever change. “Still…”

“Look,” Iwaizumi said, glancing at Oikawa again. He was still messing with something and in a rush Iwa continued. “He’s too worked up about the game, so he won’t sleep anyway. Let’s just stay up and maybe we can help him relax--”

Oikawa’s voice cut him off, playful but a little suspicious, making the two of you jumped. “What are you two whispering about?”

Feeling guilty at the betrayed expression on his wan face, you opened your lips but no sound came out. There were words stuck in your throat-- worried reprimands and demands-- but you knew they would do no good. Not with his very first game on the international circuit looming in just two days time. Nothing you said would make a difference, and to stress him out with a fight before that wouldn’t be fair, or at least no more fair than he was being to himself anyway.

Picking a fight right now would only ruin your vacation and make everyone miserable, so instead you closed your mouth and reached out to take Iwa’s hand, which squeezed yours so tight you could feel your bones grinding. “Sorry, Tooru, just chatting about tomorrow. Didn’t realize we were whispering.”

Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, though, and Oikawa’s narrowed, his lips turning down. Everything had been fine until you had gotten back to the apartment, but now you and Iwa both looked withdrawn and distant, unable to look at him for more than a moment before finding each other. “Are you...sure?”

The air filled with a tense silence, and once again you felt like a chasm was between you, with you and Iwaizumi on one side and Oikawa on the other, and you wondered if it would ever truly close up again. He looked so alone on the other side, drawn into himself and insecure, that you had to clos the distance to him and took his hand. It created a chain between the three of you until Iwa reached out for Oikawa, and you breathed a little easier for it.

“Everything is fine, Tooru, if you are,” you said, and he heard the pointed question in your tone. 

Iwaizumi groaned internally. He should’ve known you wouldn’t just leave it alone.

For Oikawa’s part, he should’ve known you would notice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. But he didn’t feel like getting into it with you on your first night in-- if at all-- but he knew he would have to let you fawn over and get onto him following the game. He just hoped you would drop it until then.

“I’m tired, _____, but I’m okay. Things will slow down once the game is over, I promise,” he said, and you picked up on the thin warning in his voice. 

Another tense silence followed as they waited for you to make your decision, and you ultimately sighed, dropping his hand. You understood his sentiment all too well, and knew that Iwaizumi was right when he said it would be better to wait, but that didn’t mean you were happy with what Oikawa was doing to himself.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he gestured to the collection of DVDs lining the shelves. Ultimately, it was left up to you and you picked out something you knew everyone would enjoy: The X-Files. The way Oikawa’s tired face lit up was a testament to that, even if Iwaizumi huffed in exasperation. At least you hadn’t pushed the issue with Oikawa, letting it devolve into a fight. He really didn’t feel like having to mediate between the two of you tonight.

Three episodes in and Oikawa was drooping onto your shoulder, eyes fluttering with the effort to remain open. The hand he had been using to hold yours was slack, fingers loosely intertwined, and he whined when you pulled away, reaching out for it again. But you were pushing at his shoulder, guiding him down to lay in your lap, and he hummed in contentment. A blanket landed on him, the one from the back of the couch, then your fingers were brushing through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and he was drifting, images of the day flickering through his mind’s eye. They mixed with some weirder things, like a giant cat and running through Tokyo away from an alien, and he stopped fighting to bring the other images back.

His breathing evened out, his full weight coming to rest on your legs, and your fingers stilled. Eyes locked on the screen, you said, “Sorry, Iwa, for earlier. I know you’re right, but I can’t help but worry.”

Iwaizumi already had the remote in hand, fiddling with the buttons until he could figure out how to switch the screen over to Netflix, and he sighed as he flipped through the shows. “I know how you are, ______, but you know how Oikawa is. He’s always been that way.” He wasn’t patronizing as he said it, just pointed, making you flinch.

“I know that, but is anyone down here going to keep him from killing himself? You know he doesn’t know his limits,” you said, watching as he clicked into the info screen for Mad Max. The opening title played and you relaxed into the back of the couch, propping your legs up on the coffee table.

He sighed, eyes fixated on Charlize Theron coming down on her platform. He loved that movie, watching it almost as often as Godzilla. “Yeah, I do know. But there’s nothing we can do, is there? He’s halfway around the world from us and texting him about it will only get ignored.” His arm came down around your shoulders, squeezing you to his side, and you let your head fall to his shoulder. “He’ll be alright, _____. Once this game is over, he should settle down. He’s probably just desperate to make a good impression.”

You chuckled at that as you watched the movie, Iwa’s warmth surrounding you and the steady rise of fall of Oikawa’s shoulders lulling you into a stupor. You knew he was right because Oikawa had always been like that-- desperate, for some reason, to make sure everyone knew he was worthy of the praise he received. As if you didn’t already think he was.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until Iwaizumi was nudging your shoulder. The weight on your legs was gone and you jerked awake to find Oikawa sitting up, rubbing his eyes and glaring at Iwaizumi.

“I was comfortable,” he whined, draping himself over you dramatically. You giggled, your eyes stinging with sleep, but pushed him off you gently. “Not you too, _____.”

“We should go to sleep,” you reprimanded, letting Iwa help you up off the couch. Holding your hand out to Oikawa, you were almost pulled back down by his strong grip, and heard him snicker. “Don’t be a brat, Tooru,” you said, pinching his side and listening to him whine.

You parted ways in the hall, the resonating click of three doors closing before silence reigned, and you changed quickly. Collapsing onto the bed with a sigh, you breathed in the fresh smell of laundry detergent and smiled as you realized that, somehow, Oikawa’s damn cologne had stuck to the sheets too.

--

The next day, you and Iwaizumi wandered around the city again, following Oikawa’s suggestions of sites to check out. The city center was beautiful but packed, the fountain gurgling away happily, and that’s where the two of you had lunch. Following that, you went around to a museum, taking a tour where the guide explained the founding of the city and other interesting facts. Iwa accidentally ripped the pamphlet, causing you to laugh at the confusion on his face as he tried to figure out how it happened.

The last place you visited was an absolutely beautiful park. There were people everywhere there as well, sitting in the grass and on the benches littered around the lake. Iwa casually reached out, taking your hand as you walked down the riverwalk, gazing at the serene blue waters, and your heart skipped a beat. 

When you returned to the apartment, greeting the doorman on your way by, it was still dark, and you set the ingredients you had purchased down on the counter. On the way back, you had mentioned how Oikawa had probably not had any homemade food since he moved there, so Iwaizumi had suggested making onigiri for him. 

The two of you worked in quiet tandem, putting the rice on before turning to help Iwa make the fillings. You had opted for a few different ones, and you were overflowing with rice balls by the time you were done. To an outsider, it would look like too much, but you knew your boys all too well-- they would eat every single one of them before the night was through.

As you worked, you asked, “How long do you think he’ll be?”

He shrugged in response, molding rice around a tuna filling. His muscles flexed with the effort, veins popping naturally all along his forearm, and you found yourself lost in watching him work. It was something you were always prone too, but lately thoughts of a different nature were popping into your head, thoughts you really, really didn’t want to be thinking.

It took him a moment to realize you hadn’t said anything more, and he looked up to find you staring at him intensely. “See something you like?” he joked and watched you jump, your face flushing as you turned back to your own work. His eyes narrowed at your unusual reaction-- normally you would come back with a defensive “No,” or some quip about how there was nothing to see at all. 

“Anyway, I can’t wait to see the game tomorrow,” you said, and he could hear the strain in your voice. You were packing the rice balls with more tenacity than normal, obviously determined not to look at him again, and something about it soothed the low burn in his chest that had been there for some time, diligently ignored.

He nodded, even though you weren’t looking, and picked up the next onigiri. “Oikawa is gonna be amazing out there, like always. I’m glad we get to be here for him.”

“Me too,” you said, and then laughed. “Imagine if we hadn’t come. He would be blowing us up right now, whining about how nervous he is and how we don’t love him anymore.”

He laughed with you, imagining Oikawa stomping his foot as he complained about being abandoned. “Thank god we came then. We would never survive his wrath.”

When the onigiri was done, you plopped down on the couch, putting on Family Guy on Hulu for background noise while the two of you played on your phones. Your feet were in Iwa’s lap as you tapped away at a game on your screen, the sound drowned out by Peter’s loud laughter, and that was how Oikawa found the two of you an hour later.

The sound of his entry was covered by the TV, and something heavy settled in his stomach when he opened the door and called, “I’m home.”

He snickered when you both jumped, twisting around to look at him. A smile lit your face while Iwa just looked unimpressed.

“Welcome home!” you said, throwing your arms up with dramatic enthusiasm, and Oikawa snickered.

“Awe, you even cooked. My little housewives,” he cooed, picking up a rice ball from the plate on the counter. He took a bite, nostalgia and longing filling his heart at the familiar flavors. It reminded him of home-- not Japan, not Tokyo, not Miyagi, but you and Iwa. 

“Watch it, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growled, scowling up at his friend, and was stopped short by the expression on his face. It was so tender it was almost painful as he stared down at the rice ball in his hands, and then he turned it full force on the two of you.

“I really missed you guys,” he said, and then laughed. “And onigiri, and takoyaki, and Japan.”

He brought two more over and squeezed between you, practically sitting on top of you, slinging his arm over Iwa’s shoulders. You exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi, who just shrugged in amusement.

“What’re you doing home so early anyway?” you asked, returning to your game. You were only 500 points away from beating your highscore, and you tapped away to get there. Oikawa watched over your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your ear, and a shiver ran down your spine.

He was unusually quiet and focused as your character moved across the screen, avoiding obstacles and slashing at small blob monsters in your path. “Uh, they wanted us to rest for the big game. Speaking of which, I have your passes in my bag, so don’t let me forget to give them to you otherwise they won’t let you in.”

You hummed, avoiding a blob only to get killed by an arrow on your last life. “Goddammit.”

Exiting out of the app purely out of spite, you locked your phone and looked up at Oikawa. His face was closer than you had realized and your face heated up when your nose bumped his. He seemed as startled as you and jerked back, his cheeks turning a pretty red underneath his tan. His brown eyes were wide with surprise, lips parting slightly, and his arm slid off Iwa’s shoulders.

Iwaizumi watched the whole thing with something that could have been amusement, but he couldn’t quite tell. There was a flareup of something in his chest, and he might have named it longing if he hadn’t been trying to ignore those feelings. Clearing his throat, he continued to scroll through his phone and watched the two of you shift, trying to ignore the tension in the air.

“Anyway,” you said, picking at the hem of your shorts. You picked your phone back up and unlocked it, clicking into Twitter. “Do you know where our seats are?”

Back in familiar territory, Oikawa perked back up. “Well...I got you front row seats! And you’ll meet me in back after the game is over to go to the afterparty.”

“Oh, we get to party with the great Oikawa still?” Iwa asked, snickering at the way Oikawa huffed.

“Not with that attitude, Iwa-chan. Maybe I’ll just take _____ and leave you at the stadium,” he said, wrapping his arm around you possessively. It seemed whatever strangeness had occurred earlier was wiped from his mind as he pulled you into his chest.

You laughed into his shirt, fingers wiggling against his stomach until he squirmed and let you go. “You can’t be that mean, Tooru,” you chided, curling your legs up underneath yourself. Liking one of Bokuto’s tweets, you continued, “What would we do without Iwa there to keep us from getting too drunk?”

“And going home with the wrong people again?” he piped up, and Oikawa flushed bright red again.

“It was one time, Hajime. Stop bringing it up!” he whined, hiding his face in his hands. “_____, help me!”

Instead, you snickered and said, “That was the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You should have seen how confused they were when you stumbled up to them screaming Iwa-chan, _____ I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Iwa burst into laughter while Oikawa groaned. 

“I hate it here,” he said, muffled by his hands. “Why does everyone hate me?”

Patting his back, you choked out, “It’s because you’re pretty.”

“Ugh.”

--

The game that day was absolutely fantastic. Oikawa was flawless, encouraging his teammates and commanding everyone’s attention-- then again maybe that was just you projecting, but if anyone asked you would say it was true-- and it seemed they won the game without effort.

They all clapped him on the back in the middle of the court, laughing and cheering and, when they turned to acknowledge the crowd, Oikawa’s smile was all for you.

A security guard approached your seats a few moments later, gesturing you towards the set of doors the team was heading towards, and Oikawa fell into step beside you, slinging a sweaty arm over each of your shoulders.

“God, Oikawa, you’re disgusting. Get off us,” Iwa snapped, shoving at his arm, but Oikawa was undeterred.

Still regaining his breath, he asked, “How was I out there? Amazing, right?”

“If you already know,” Iwaizumi said, giving up the fight with his arm, “why are you asking?”

“Because I want to hear you say it, of course,” he answered, guiding you towards the locker rooms. There was a series of benches lining the hall and he stopped in front of them, grinning. “Wait here. We’re gonna have to do a few more interviews and then we’ll go to the venue,” he said, turning towards the locker room.

It was almost thirty minutes before the team finally trudged back out, still in high spirits, and another thirty to deal with the throngs of reporters and news crews who wanted interviews. Finally, you loaded up onto the bus, stuck between Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The whole ride was loud and you laughed at the antics of the team. Iwaizumi was right at home amongst them, as if he were right back in highschool, riding the high of a win.

The party was being held on the rooftop of a nearby hotel, complete with an open bar, DJ, and more athletes, friends and family of said athletes, and reporters than you could count. You were introduced to the team and their spouses before being dragged off by a few of them to dance. Iwaizumi found you a little while later, three drinks in and giggling maniacally with the libero’s wife, Trish. She was telling you about when she first met her husband at a party just like this one and how she threw up on his girlfriend at the time’s shoes. He had laughed so hard she broke up with him right then, and you couldn’t help but laugh even though it was kind of sad.

“Hey, princess,” Iwa said, and you shouted his name happily at the sight of him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes slightly unfocused, and when you took a sip from his cup you were overcome with the taste of vodka. “Oikawa was looking for us.”

“Oh,” Trish teased, pushing you a little harder than intended in her drunk state. You fell into Iwaizumi, who only caught you out of habit. “Are you dating our little all star?”

“W-What?” you shrieked over the loud music, shaking your head wildly. Your hair fell into your face and the sky spun, then you started giggling again. “No, no, it’s-- nothing like that?”

“Are you asking or telling, _____?” she asked, but Iwa was pulling you away, pushing through the pulsating crowd towards the bar.

Oikawa was standing there, eyes bright with drunkenness as he chatted with someone you didn’t recognize, and he waved as you stumbled up. Pulling you from Iwa, he said, “_____, this is Andre. He’s from the Swedish team. This is my best friend from Japan.”

You straightened up, the haze of alcohol clearing as you focused on the tall man in front of you. He was smiling kindly at you, a cup in his hand like everyone else, and nodded at you. He spoke with a Spanish accent as he said, “It’s nice to meet you, _____. You’re very beautiful.”

Eyes widening, you stuttered as you said, “T-Thank you.”

His grin grew bigger, and you missed the way both Iwa and Oikawa tensed to either side of you. If he saw it, he ignored it, asking if you wanted to dance.

Your friends let you go with reluctance, a pained expression on Oikawa’s face as he looked to Iwaizumi. Neither knew what to say-- they knew it would happen eventually, you couldn’t remain unnoticed forever. 

“She’ll be okay,” Iwa said, pouring himself another drink. It was his fourth so far, and he was careless as he poured his alcohol. “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

Oikawa didn’t like the calmness in his voice when something ugly was raging in his chest, something he had been ignoring all this time whenever you talked about other people you expressed an interest in. But alcohol made him loose and the jealousy reared up sharper than ever as he caught glimpses of you twirling and swaying with the beat of the music. Andre’s hands were on your hips and you were laughing at something he was whispering-- at least as far as Oikawa could tell-- into your ear. 

His hands were tight around his cup, squeezing and crinkling the cheap plastic, then it was being tugged from his fingers and another was replacing it.

“Drink,” Iwa said, sipping from his own cup. “Jealousy looks ugly on you.”

“Iwa,” he snapped, watching your arms loop around Andre’s neck, “how can you be happy about this?”

Iwa tensed beside him and pinned him with a glare that would have cowed him if he was less drunk or less irate. “What makes you think I am, Oikawa? But she isn’t-- she’s not ours.”

Ours echoed in his head, and for the first time he really looked at Iwaizumi. He realized that the jealousy never flared when he was around, and watching the two of you curled up together on his couch never elicited the emotion either. It felt like home watching the two of you, and yesterday was the first day he had actually looked forward to coming home. Seeing Iwaizumi’s spiky black hair over the back of the couch and your smiling face as you welcomed him home had made all the difference to him, and he took a large swig from his cup, the rum burning on the way down before he spoke again.

“She could be.”

It was said so quietly that if Iwa hadn’t been standing shoulder to shoulder with him he wouldn’t have heard him. His head whipped around, swimming a little with the alcohol, and narrowed his eyes.

Oikawa could feel his eyes on him, meeting his gaze head on. He wasn’t joking, the mix of jealousy and alcohol wouldn’t let him. Iwaizumi’s face was blank, but he could see the gears turning as he processed his words as best he could with his level of intoxication. 

At last, he seemed to reach a decision, the blankness morphing into a calculating look and he said, “What about her? Does she want that? And us? Oikawa, we can’t hold her back because we don’t want to let her go.”

Oikawa looked back to you and sighed. You were now dancing with Andre and one of the other wives whose name he’d already forgotten, laughing without care. “If she doesn’t want us, then we’ll let her go. But I can’t-- Iwa, you feel the same, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he said, admitting to it at last. It felt like the weight of finally confessing was lifted only to be replaced with the weight of acknowledgement, and he wasn’t sure he liked it any better. “For both of you, but it doesn’t mean anything if she doesn’t want it. What will you do if she rejects you?”

“Then I’ll beg her not to cut me out of her life, of course. And she’ll forgive us because even if she doesn’t love us, she loves us,” he answered, and said it with such certainty that even Iwaizumi believed him. He sighed, clapping Oikawa on the shoulder and, as if the gods were listening, you disentangled yourself from Andre and approached them.

Even in the dim light they could see how happy you were, skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat. A few strands of hair were sticking to your forehead, and you pushed them back as you greeted them. “Hey, guys, what’re you just standing here for? This is a party for you, Oikawa!” You were shouting over the music and reached out, taking Iwa’s cup from his hand. Taking a swig, you grimaced. “How are you still standing, Haji?”

Iwa chuckled while Oikawa took a long swallow from his cup.

“You’re right, princess. Let’s go dance!” he said, and took your hand. You grabbed Iwa’s at the last minute and pulled him after the two of you, his drink sloshing as he stumbled to keep up.

You found yourself pinned between the two of them, the heat radiating off of them and everyone around you making your brain fuzzy. Your arms looped around his neck when you handed Oikawa’s cup back after stealing a sip, body swaying to the beat of the music thudding from the speakers. Andre was all but pushed from your mind as his hand settled on your waist, Iwa’s landing on your other. His back was pressed flush to your back, your chest touching Oikawa’s, and suddenly nothing else existed.

The smell of his cologne filled your nose, mixed with the heady scent of alcohol and sweat. Your head spun when Iwa pressed his nose into your hair, pulling it to the side to expose the back of your neck, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

The song changed, more intense, and you lost yourself in the feel of their bodies against yours, tall and protective. Spinning around, you wrapped your fingers around Iwa’s neck now and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Having fun, princess?” Oikawa whispered, a breath of air ghosting over your ear making you shivered. His hand was low on your hip, squeezing as he pulled you back into him, and you nodded. “I could use another drink. Keep her warm for me, Hajime.”

His warmth disappeared and you instantly missed it and the feeling of security. Nuzzling closer to Iwa, the beat shifted again, slowing down and going darker, and you shivered as the bass thrummed through you. His hand drifted lower, settling just below your hip, and you looked up at him. Both their drinks were a lot stronger this time around, and you could feel the effects on you in the way everything swam. You couldn’t focus on anything but Iwaizumi and the way he was staring at you with dark, hooded eyes. You were sure he was as drunk as you, but you didn’t even realize you were leaning up until he stopped you, giving you a soft smile.

“Not here, princess, not while you’re drunk,” he said into your ear, and you flushed under the spinning strobe lights. You were too important to him to do this when you weren’t sober, and he wanted to talk before you made any decisions.

His words held a promise you didn’t expect, and you swallowed thickly around the cloying taste of vodka.

“But when I’m sober?” you whispered, and it was only because you were still right by his ear that he heard you.

He chuckled, nodding as he rested his sweaty forehead against yours. “If you remember, princess. Yeah.”

“What have we here? I thought you had more chivalry than that,” Oikawa said from beside you. He slid back into his place behind you, resting his cheek on your shoulder, lips a hair away from touching Iwa’s forehead. “By the way, Andre is not happy. Isn’t it great?”

Iwa snickered, kissing the tip of your nose before he took in Oikawa’s shit eating grin. Leaning in close, his nose brushed Oikawa’s. “You take way too much pride in that, Shittykawa.”

“Don’t you? Our _____ is a desired woman, after all,” he said, eyes narrowing as they dipped down to look at Iwa’s lips. The temptation was strong enough that it caused him to lick his own before meeting Iwa’s again, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He was following the beat of the music, swaying side to side with you. It had shifted once again but remained low and resonating, the others around you pushing and pulling you with the flow. Your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and amused.

“What do you mean our?” you asked, teasing. You snatched the cup from his hand and took a drink, playing keep away from Oikawa when he reached for it. You weren’t expecting for Iwaizumi to take it from your hands and drink from it, both of you laughing when Oikawa whined. 

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you to him while Iwa held onto the cup, laughing brashly. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was feeling lighter than air, and he looked at you and Oikawa, draped around you like a blanket. Love flooded his system, mixing with the drink and his head spun at the intensity. He wondered if he would feel that way tomorrow, but decided that was a problem for another Iwaizumi. He came back to you, arm slipping around you both as far as the could to curl in Oikawa’s shirt.

The party was still raging, and he was going to enjoy it with the two of you.

--

You didn’t stumble into the apartment until the early hours of the morning, when the earliest risers were getting ready for work, and half-assed the removal of your makeup. Hands had grabbed you the minute you exited the bathroom and dragged you back to the living room, where you collapsed in a pile on the couch. You passed out until mid afternoon and woke up tangled in long and muscular limbs, remaining makeup caked and the lingering taste of alcohol in your mouth. How you had managed not to throw up was a miracle, and the men only groaned when you untangled yourself from them.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you cleaned the rest of the makeup off your face and snagged some of Oikawa’s facial cleanser before hopping into the shower. Flashes of last night came back to you. Dancing with Andre, listening to him whisper into your ear and laughing at things that weren’t that funny now, then finding Oikawa and Iwa and being dragged back into the crowd. That caused your heart to race, remembering the way they had pinned you between them, hands groping at your hips and moving against you. Oikawa had disappeared and it was just you and Iwa, the intense look in his eyes as he stared down at you, leaning up and--

God, you had almost kissed him. And he had-- he had said if you remembered when you were sober. Your heart was thumping so hard that your hungover brain was spinning. The question was, did he remember?

Feeling marginally less dead but more nervous than ever before, you dressed and headed back into the living room to find Iwaizumi and Oikawa both sitting up with their heads in their hands.

“I haven’t gotten that drunk since my last party in Japan,” Oikawa groaned, massaging his temples. He remembered a surprising amount about last night, but most clearly was the conversation with Iwaizumi, and he knew without asking that he remembered it too. Neither of them were drunk enough to forget, but after that was a different story. All he remembered was dancing with you for the rest of the night, your hands in his hair and on his chest, body moving against his, and his heart throbbed in his throat.

Iwa chuckled at that and then winced when the action made his head throb. “Weak. But same.” His schedule was always too packed to get that blitzed, so he stuck to two drinks and then went home.

The door to the bathroom opened and you came out into the living room wearing one of their shirts-- they didn’t even know whose at that point-- and sat down between them on the couch.

“You look like trash,” you said, snickering when they grumbled.

“I’m gonna go shower now,” Iwa said, standing up from beside you. He gave the lightest touch on your cheek before disappearing down the hall. The sound of water running met your ears, and you fidgeted with your hands.

Oikawa groaned and flopped sideways down on the couch. “I ordered takeout already. It should be here soon. I need something greasy, so I hope you don’t mind burgers.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food, reminding you that the only thing you had eaten were some hors d’oeuvres at the party. “That sounds absolutely amazing.”

You put on Netflix while Oikawa replaced Iwa in the shower, the air tense between you two. The words from last night replayed and you were working up the courage to see if he remembered as well when he turned to you.

“Hey, uh, _____, do you-- I mean, what do you--?” he said, and the doorbell rang, indicating the food was there. “Well, nevermind.” He stood up and answered, the smell of greasy food hitting you after a moment.

“Gimme gimme,” you said, taking the box he handed to you. 

The shower cut off and a few minutes later Oikawa joined you, groaning as he took a bite of his burger. “Nothing has ever tasted so good.”

You continued to eat in silence, a tense weight hanging over the three of you and the longer it went unacknowledged the more nervous you got. The scene kept playing over in your head, exhausting you more than the hangover, your stomach rolling with anxiety. At last, you couldn’t take it and pushed your burger away.

“Listen, guys, um, I have something to say and I really hope that you don’t freak out but I--”

“Do you remember last night?” Iwaizumi asked, cutting you off. You flinched beside him, eyes wide as you nodded, and he reached out, taking your hands. “Was that real? Is it something you want?”

Your mouth went dry as he moved closer, leaning in like you had last night, and your lips parted, but no words came out. Oikawa shifted behind you, unaware of what you were talking about, but Iwa’s eyes locked with his over your head and he understood that whatever it was, it was promising. 

Heart in your throat, you nodded, and that was all Iwa needed. 

Your first kiss with him was soft and sweet, his hands coming up to cup your face, and he tilted his head to the side to deepen it. Oikawa groaned, fingers digging into your sides and letting his head drop to your shoulder. Somehow, what he had talked about last night was actually happening, and he fought the urge to pinch himself to make sure it was real, just in case he was in the midst of an alcohol induced dream. 

When Iwa pulled back, his eyes were hazy as they stared into yours, hands rough and warm against your cheeks. He dipped in again, stealing one more before letting go, and Oikawa wrapped your hair around his fingers, guiding your face around so he could get his.

That kiss was heavy with unspoken emotion, needy and hot and you reached up behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing back into him to get closer. His arm wrapped around your stomach, hauling you into his lap and when he pulled away, he was panting. It didn’t stop him from diving in several more times, moaning at the taste until he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed and lips swollen.

“I love you, princess. And not just as one of my best friends,” he whispered, his thumb rubbing your stomach through your shirt. You gasped at that, eyes misting over as you stared up at him.

“I-- really?” you whispered, and he chuckled at the disbelieving tone of your voice.

He nodded, and Iwa distracted you by taking your hand and lifting it to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn and then pressing your palm to his cheek. “I love you too, _____, if that’s okay.”

“W-Wait, I don’t-- I don’t want to choose between you,” you breathed, and they snickered at the panic in your voice. Dumbfounded, you fell silent, looking between them and waiting for an explanation.

Pulling your hand down, Iwa set it in his lap, stroking the back of it with callused fingertips. “You don’t have to choose between us, if you want both of us. We’ve already talked about it.”

“When?” you asked, overwhelmed by the information. Your two best friends, both of whom you’d managed to fall in love with over the course of the last few months, were confessing they both loved you and both wanted to be with you. It was almost too much.

Iwa colored red while Oikawa snickered again, turning your face to him again. “Last night, actually. Speaking of which, what were you talking about that happened last night?”

It was your turn to be embarrassed, and you hid your face in his neck, mumbling it to him.

“You tried to kiss him?” Oikawa laughed, rubbing your back. “Oh, _____, you little minx.”

“Shut up,” you whined, smacking him in the arm. 

He continued to laugh at you, locking eyes with Iwa again. He looked amused, his cheeks still faintly pink but the smile he was wearing was so beautifully genuine that it almost hurt to look at, and Iwa’s words from last night flashed back to him.

Of course I do. For both of you.

His eyes dipped down to Iwa’s lips and, when he looked back up, he was wearing a knowing smirk. He shifted you slightly to the side, keeping you steady with an arm around your waist, while Iwa scooted forward. His knee pressed between yours as he leaned forward, cupping Oikawa’s cheek before his fingers slid up into his hair.

Your mouth fell open as he pulled his head down, slotting his lips against Oikawa’s. It was tentative at first, testing the waters, but then Oikawa’s fingers curled into his shirt and tugged him closer, groaning into the kiss.

Their pupils were blown wide with wonder when they pulled apart and, when they looked back to you, they found you wearing the widest grin imaginable. There was a pause where no one said anything and then Oikawa pushed you into Iwaizumi and threw himself on top of you. Iwaizumi grunted at the impact as his back hit the couch while you laughed loudly.

“You fucking brat,” Iwaizumi snapped without malice, while you wiggled around trying to get Oikawa off of you. He fell to the side between you and the couch, and Iwa held you to his chest, hand rubbing your back.

Oikawa braced himself up on his elbow, gazing down at the two of you with a bright smile, radiating happiness. He finally understood the ache that had sat in his chest since he announced he was leaving for Argentina, the fierce longing to see you and touch you ever since you had arrived explained by the fact that he was unconditionally in love with you. He wondered how he had only realized it after he left, when the signs had been there for a lot longer than that. Maybe he had simply taken what he had already for granted, or maybe he had just been blind to it.

Knowing him, it was probably both.

Your eyes had closed, listening to the steady beat of Iwa’s heart in your ear, but you suddenly jerked up, looking excited.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriends? Everyone is gonna freak,” you said, and Oikawa snorted and burst into laughter. Under you, Iwa groaned, clapping his hand to his forehead.

“You are unbelievable, _____,” he huffed, but he was smiling again, and you could see he was trying not to laugh. “But yeah, I guess you can. I will revoke the right if you abuse it, though. Both of you.”

Oikawa’s eyes lit up at that, and a mischievous smirk lit up his face. “Wonder what we’d have to do to make that happen.”

“Oh, no. I am not gonna risk that,” you said, pushing his face away as he leaned forward. “I just got the right, I’m not gonna lose it already.”

“You’re no fun, _____,” he pouted, grabbing your hand. He kissed your palm, listening to you giggle at something Iwa whispered into your ear. “Already keeping secrets from me, hm? I’m not sure you--”

“I love you, Tooru,” you said, and he sputtered and turned bright red, dropping your hand in favor of covering his face with his, whining in the back of his throat. You burst into laughter while Iwaizumi snickered, high fiving you.

“Why are you two so mean to me?” Oikawa asked through his fingers, though he was grinning hard enough to hurt. His heart thumped in his chest at what was probably an unhealthy rate for an athlete of his caliber, but if he died of a heart attack right then, he’d be alright with it.

It was Iwaizumi who answered, pulling his face down into his neck. Oikawa went willingly, listening to the deep timber of his voice as he said, “You didn’t really think anything would change did you, Brattykawa?”

“Well I had hoped, since you love me and all,” Oikawa admitted. He was starting to feel tired again, his eyes heavy as he soaked in the warmth of your hands on his back and Iwa in general. 

“Nope,” you said, popping your lips on the ‘p’. You settled yourself on Iwa’s chest again, pushing your fingers through Oikawa’s hair. He seemed to purr at that, murmuring as he snuggled closer into Iwa’s side. “I could go for a nap.”

“Same,” Iwa said, proving his point with a yawn. Tucking his arm beneath his head, he let his eyes close with a sigh.

Oikawa was already asleep, his breathing deep and even and warm against Iwa’s neck, and he thought you were too until you murmured a sleepy, “I love you too, Haji.”

His lips ticked up, his heart skipping a beat at the quiet confession. They were words he had been longing to hear for a longer time than he cared to admit, and he sighed again.

“Love you too, princess. Now shut up so we can sleep.”

⇥ masterlist

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous  

[spencessmile]

Stressed Out

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Reader 

Summary - While trying to complete a final essay, a very stressful Y/N snaps at her boyfriend. 

Warnings - None

Word Count -   1064 words

Shoutout to @spenceneedsahug for the idea! 

And and all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don’t steal work and post it without my consent. Happy reading! 

** 

Growing up I always wanted to lived a well balanced life but here I was living the most unbalanced life I could possibly imagine. I worked two jobs, along with completing my third year of university through online classes. Working two jobs and completing online school didn't sound so bad, at first.

From Spence

Hey baby, just wrapped up the case and we're on the jet. We should be home in a couple of hours. Can't wait to see you. I love you! xx  Was the text I received a few hours ago. 

My boyfriend Spencer texted me that him and his team are on their way back home from Los Angeles after being away for a week on a case. Spencer always felt bad for never begin around, I always assured him that I was fine and that his job needed him more then me. He always disagreed with me on that topic. But in this very moment I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him. 

But here I am, coming home from a 10 am to 6 pm retail job to be faced with loads of notes and a blank word document. I sat on the floor of Spencer's study room surrounded by notes and several coffee cups. I was majoring in Political Science but this one specific course was kicking my butt; POLSCI 2M03 - Governance, Representation and Participation in Democracies. I had to write one final essay for the semester and then I would be done my third semester of university. 

I had notes scattered everywhere I didn't even know what I was doing anymore. My eyes scanned my textbook for the millionth time rereading the same paragraphs hoping to pull out some useful information. I rubbed my temples as I felt a headache slowly starting to take over my brain. I shut my textbook and grabbed the coffee cup and walked to the kitchen. I poured myself, god knows my 10th maybe 11th cup of coffee of the day. I always made fun of Spence for drinking too much coffee but him and I both knew that I took the crown for that. 

I grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and headed back into the room. 

"Okay, you have to focus. Come on, you can do this." I told my self as I stared at the word document that only had my name and date on it. I sighed and started typing the first thoughts that came into my head after all the readings I read. I was so into typing I didn't notice when the front door opened and when Spencer entered into the study. My eyes didn't leave my laptop as my fingers continued to type out my thoughts as they flooded out. 

"Hey baby." Spence whispered, softly rubbing your shoulders as he leaned to the side and kissed your temple. "Come on, let's head to bed." 

"Hey. I have to finish this essay." I motioned towards my laptop screen. 

"Baby, it's really late. Besides, you know I don't like sleeping alone." Normally I would drop anything to jump into bed with Spence. When I didn't respond, Spence started to kiss down my neck, slowly making his way down to my shoulders. "It's late and you probably can't concentrate anyways." 

"Spence, please not right now." I pushed him away slightly. 

"This will still be here tomorrow. Come now." He stated, as his lips connected to my neck again. 

"Spence please! I have to have this finished by tomorrow. If you are tired then please go to bed! I will join you once I'm finished. Just leave me alone. Now, please leave!" I snapped. Spence was taken back from my outburst. I felt him pull back and he lingered for a bit before walking out.

A couple of seconds later as soon as I heard the bedroom door close I sighed. 

"Ugh, crap! No!" I muttered knowing that he was hurt by my sudden outburst. Spence was right, I can't concentrate anymore, my brain felt fried. I turned off my laptop, shut my books shut the lights and headed into the bedroom.

The room was dark expect for the small light from the night light. I climbed into bed and sat criss-crossed from Spence, his back was facing me. 

"Love, I'm so sorry." I knew that he was awake. "I've had a really long day and I didn't mean to snap at you." I felt the tears following. He stayed silent for a few seconds. "Please, don't go to be upset at me." As soon as those words followed, Spence sat up and turned on the lamp beside him. 

He pulled me for a hug and rubbed my back as I sobbed into his neck. "Shh, you're okay. I'm here." 

"I-I'm sorry." I sobbed, the words barely above a whisper. 

"I understand baby it's just that I miss you when I'm away. When I get home I don't like seeing you like this. It breaks my heart." 

"I know you don't and I'm sorry." 

"I know this is crunch time for you right now and it's hard." I pull back and Spence smiles. "Statically speaking, lack of sleep and over working yourself can cause high blood pressure, a unhealthy eating pattern and have negative impacts on your lifestyle. A study by Stanford and Harvard business institutions found that working for too long can increase your chance of mortality by at least 20 percent." I smile as it was music to my hears hearing Spence spit out random facts. It was one of my favorite things about him. 

Spence wiped the remaining tears and leaned in for a soft kiss.

"Love I'm really tired and I just to want to cuddle with you." I say. 

"I know, come here beautiful." He laid on his back, as I rested my head on his chest, wrapping my right arm around his torso.

"I love you so much." He kissed my temple as I shut my eyes.

"I love you too." 

[niawritess]

The Lovestruck~Chapter 1

(25 November)

2:14 PM

"Good afternoon, Rose!"

You greeted the owner with a smile as you walked into the Café, she greeted back smiling warmly as you made your way to the counter. Walking into the kitchen, you wore your apron and tied your hair into a high ponytail before stepping out.

"You're early." Rose said taking off her apron revealing her red top and black jeans with her hair in a loose bun.

"Yes, last class got cancelled." You replied standing beside her as you began helping her with cups and she giggled. "You must be happy then."

"Yes, very!" Your excited tone made her laugh and you joined her as you had told her before that you don't like history class.

Rose, the Cafés owner whom you met outside of a coffee shop coincidentally and shared some ideas about it. However, you ended up working in her Café when she offered you the job. You accepted it after disscussing it with your family and it's been two months since you are working here.

Your family didn't wanted to let you work because it's quite well off, but you wanted to experience it and Rose seemed to like you where you were unable to say no to her, so respecting your decision they agreed. Accepting the offer was great desicion of yours as you have been enjoying your work, though it gets a little hard but you love working here so, it's worth it.

Rose has been nothing but a best owner and the best company you could ask for, with her way of handling the Café, its been doing really well in only three months. Her coffee tastes the best although you don't drink but the smell you get from her coffee is different from others.

She can be strict when it comes to work but she's the most kind hearted person you've met as she has been treating you like her little sister and you have got comfortable with her in such a short time.

"By the way, should i go with something simple or something fancy?" She asked and you looked at her with a puzzle look, then you wided your eyes.

"No way! You agreed!" You exclaimed turning body towards her.

Rose's mom keeps pressuring her to go on a blind date because she's turning 30 soon, you couldn't believe when she told you her age because she looks younger.

She nodded. "Mom said its her friend's son so, It won't harm me if i go."

"Well, she's not completely wrong. You should try it, it won't go bad as you're thinking."

She sighed. "Hopefully."

"If it doesn't go well, don't feel down about that, i'm sure you'll meet someone someday." You spoke before smiling playfully. "And if not, you can just travel around and meet someone like Big Boss there."

She laughed shaking her head. "Geez girl, you never forget to make me smile with your words and you're still young. "

You shrugged. "And go with simple look, it suits you ma'am."

She rolled her eyes which made you chuckle because Rose hates ma'am word, she literally told you on your first day to call her Rose since ma'am word makes her look old.

Hearing the sound of doorbell jingling, you both turned around to greet the customer but only to see your co-worker Baekhyun walking in a casual plain grey sweater and blue jeans, his jet black hair were down covering his forehead with a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Good afternoon, Rose ma'am!"

Rose scowled and you chuckled while Baekhyun just looked at both of you confusingly. He went in the kitchen and came behind the counter wearing his apron.

"Why were you laughing?" He asked standing beside you.

"Mr. handsome, how many times i have told you not to call me ma'am." Rose groaned sitting at one the of tables, opening her bun and Baekhyun chuckled.

Rose calls Baekhyun Mr. handsome sometimes because when he stepped in the Café first time, she was already giving him heart eyes and even told him that if he was older than her, she would've asked him out. You wouldn't deny it that he's got that looks and good personality even in that casual shirt and jeans he's pulling it off and not to mention, some girls even asked his number but he turned them down politely.

Rose stood up after finishing her coffee and wore her coat before making her way to the door but turned around to look at both of you.

"Look after the Café for me cuties and the key is in the drawer so, make sure to lock the door before going, i'm off then." She waved before walking out.

"Good luck Rose!" You shouted and she did a okay sign before disappearing from your sight.

"Where is she going?" Baekhyun asked as his eyes shifted from the door to you and you sighed. "Blind date."

"Oh, she agreed."

Byun Baekhyun, your senior in College. He started working after the month you joined, honestly you were a little surprised to see him but never asked anything because it wasn't your business.

He's a cheerful and a friendly guy who is also close with Rose. Well, both of you are close with Rose but not with eachother, you guys talk but never had a proper conversation personally except if it is related to work or Rose.

You both don't know much about eachother except your names and that he's your Senior. Though your departments are different but you've heard about him a lot since he and his group of friends are really popular. He doesn't know that you also go to same college as him and you never tried to told him since you never found it necessary as it wasn't related to your work.

"Hey Y/n, can you pass me that cup?" He held out his hand where you placed the cup in his hand without looking at him and your heart stopped for a second when his fingers brushed against yours.

You immediately pulled your hand back and looked at him to see his eyes were already on you. Sound of bell jingling erupted causing you both look away and you greeted the customer with a smile.

"What would you like to order?"

"Your number?" He asked and you blinked tilting your head to stare at him weirdly.

Did he just...

"Sorry?" You frowned wondering may be you heard wrong.

"I'm sorry." He chuckled nervously. "Actually, i've been noticing you since few days and wanted to ask if i can get your number?"

You stared at him surprised as it was the first time you were getting asked for a number and were puzzled as how you should react while Baekhyun's head turned towards your direction upon hearing that.

You blinked before forcing a smile. "I'm sorry but i can't, your order please?"

"I'll take the order." Baekhyun suddenly stood beside you and signaled you to go which you did as you started making drinks for other customers.

"Hey, i'd like to talk to her." The customer said again and you were about to open your mouth to refuse him.

"I'm her Boyfriend, you can tell me." Baekhyun said in a calm yet deep voice looking in the customer's eyes with a serious expression .

You froze with your heartbeat speeding before you tilted your head towards him with your enlarged eyes.

The customer got flustered by his response as he apologized awkwardly before dashing out without ordering and then your gaze met Baekhyun's gaze where an awkward silence followed.

"Uh, thanks." You said looking everywhere but him and he just nodded before getting another order while you made your way to the washroom only to see your red cheeks.

"The hell?" You looked at yourself in the reflection weirdly before shaking your head to shrug off your thoughts.

Walking out from the washroom, your eyes stopped at Baekhyun who was serving the order to the table where your mind went back to that scene and your heart skipped a beat making you shook your head to brush off the thoughts.

"Y/n! Stop thinking about that, he just helped you, that's it! Get back to work!" You muttered under your breath, making your way behind the counter.

***

7:25 PM

You were wiping the table while Baekhyun was doing the same on the counter before glancing at the clock to see its almost closing time. After wiping the table, you advanced towards the kitchen and took off your apron there before walking out.

"Its closing time." You glanced at Baekhyun and took your jacket before taking off your band from your hair, letting your hair fall.

Baekhyun nodded before glancing at you before his gaze stopped at you where he didn't realized that he was staring until you felt his stare and looked at him.

Your forehead creased. "Why?"

He snapped out." Uh..no..nothing."

You frowned but nodded then he took off his apron going towards the kitchen while you took the key from the drawer. He walked out and turn off the lights by the corner while you turned off the lights which was above the counter but when you did, it kept flickering and eventually stopped.

You didn't think too much about it but still you'll inform Rose tomorrow to get it fixed, maybe the bulb's expiry date is close. You both went out before grabbing your bags and locked the door before you held out the key to Baekhyun and he gave you a quizzical look then his corner of lips turned up making you roll your eyes.

Taking the key from you, he put in a pot which was hanging from the corner of the door, you can't reach it since you are little short and Baekhyun is taller than you.

You both looked at eachother and Baekhyun was still smiling then he chuckled causing you squint your eyes at him where he stopped but a little smile was still on his face.

"Then, see you tomorrow, good night." You smiled lightly before stepping backwards and he nodded. "Good night and be careful."

You nodded and turned around to walk but when you look over your shoulder he was still standing there as he gestured you to go which you did while Baekhyun watched your figure getting disappear then he also went back.

__________

@wooya1224

[rueren]

midoriya cuddles hc

***

nav | BNHA M.List

***

content : cuddling headcanons with ya boy

pairings :  izuku midoriya x g/n reader

warnings : #none 

*** 

hes so fucking adorable first of all 

second, he’s like a literal radiator

i just feel like hes always warm 

if you guys are not already dating, hes very hesitant 

theres so much “hands brushing against each other but neither of you pull away” trope scenarios

most likely to happen is the impromptu cuddle sess

itd probably happen on the bus on the way back from a training camp, when youre siting next to eachother  and you guys are just exhausted and collapse on eachother 

or like at the dorms of something

in the common room, itd probably be you guys watching something on the TV with everyone.  class 1A movie night where everyones huddled on the couch and the floor watching a scary movie

youre squeezed between deku and iida, with deku on the edge of the couch.

a jump scare comes on the TV and everyone screams, kaminari jumps so far theres popcorn everywhere and in the dark everyone can visibly see little lightning bolts jet across him 

well, everyone else saw it.  youre too busy with your face burried into izukus shoulder, his own face tucked into the crown of yoru head, eyes screwed shut.

you both open your eyes, panting slightly (its a scary ass movie give them a break) and see each other, turning away so fast, both blushing profusely

the next jump scare happened right after, and everyone screamed again, still not fully recovered from the first one.  

you feel an arm come around your shoulders, and turn to see his face again, even redder.

“um, is this okay? u seem, well we both seem jumpy”

you nod shyly, “yeah, thanks.”

“uh- no problem”

by the time the movies over, everyone's hyped up on adrenaline so they decide to put on something calmer to watch so they can wind down 

theres no reason for either of you to stay this close during a comedy, but neither one of you attempts to move

by the end of the second movie, everyone's either asleep or getting dragged away by their friend that isnt asleep.

except you and deku, who’s got you wrapped in his arms, your knees propped against his thighs, and your head on his shoulder, with his head on yours.  nobody has the heart to wake you two up

if you guys are already dating, he loves spooning 

doesn't have a problem between big or little tbh

RUN YOUR FINGERS THROUGH HIS HAIR HE WILL MELT

hes so precious, he mumbled in yor sleep and it used to catch you off guard, but now you notice that he mumbles about you in his sleep sometimes and you live for the moments you catch him 

sometimes if hes just doing work for too long you go over and just sit on his lap and tuck your face into his neck.

he’s beet red, but his hand comes up to your back and rubs little circles there until he’s finished, and then picks you up and plops you both on the bed

trace his scars.

as much as they remind him of the people he’s kept safe while getting them, they also remind him of all the times he’s made people worried for his safety and doesn’t want to hurt the people he cares about any longer.

it’s bittersweet for him, so if you trace them with admiration he will instantly melt

[fleetwoodmactshirt]

roadtrip headcanons (requested)

i think they’d all have a different vibe and a different energy. i didn’t really rank them best to worst, i just explored what i think the vibe of a road trip with each of them would be like. i also let loose and slipped in some super self-indulgent personal hcs/one-shot au idea that is a WiP about ezra as an intriguing handsome stranger you encounter on your solo cross-country road trip. as a treat. s/o to @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ for suggesting whiskey’s fav song.

frankie morales is the road trip king. no matter how spontaneous, frankie can whip a road trip plan together smoothly. he’s got a spacious truck, he’s got a cooler, he’s got the coziest blankets, he’s got the travel pillow, he’s got the camping gear, he knows the best scenic routes, he’s got the best classic tunes, he’s got the best snacks. he makes homemade sandwiches and burritos, wraps them tightly in tin foil. he heats up frozen pizzas, cuts them into slices. he stores it all in the cooler for lunches. when the supply runs out, you gorge yourselves on burgers and fries at roadside diners. but every morning he’ll stop in the nearest town to buy some apples, or some fresh fruit/veg of some kind. if they’re ripe he’ll get avocados that he’ll cut in half for you both to scoop out with a spoon to eat plain while you sit together in the bed of his truck in the shade of a lake you’ve stopped at for the afternoon. but he surprises you with your favourite junk food and snacks. he lets you borrow his cap if the sun is in your eyes; he’s got a spare, more threadbare one in the glove box. he’s low key done the research on the best places for stargazing; you lie back nestled together under a blanket, in the bed of his truck, gazing upwards; you listen as he describes the constellations, tracing them out with his finger.

max phillips. business road trips but max’s...condition necessitates driving at night only. liminal spaces. driving through the night, sleeping in business hotel rooms during the day, dust motes floating in the thin streams of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the curtains you’ve pulled shut. you see incredible sunsets and sunrises from the highway. you also see some undeniably weird shit late at night on road trips with max. he watches you eat breakfast food at 2 am in neon lit 24/7 diners. while on the road he passes you lots of candy throughout the night; he stocks up from the hotel vending machines. but no matter how much caffeine and sugar he tries to fuel you with, sometimes you’re lulled to sleep by the peacefulness. you nestle your head against max’s shoulder; it’s not the most comfortable position to drive in but he can’t bring himself to readjust and shift away from you. solitary brightly lit gas stations that are like an oasis of light breaking the pitch darkness. the two of you feel utterly alone sometimes; the world has shrunk down to only you, max, in this car, driving along this empty, dark stretch of road, a blush of purple on the edge of the horizon signalling the dawn.

based on how oberyn canonically took his daughters to explore an abandoned holdfast, i think his road trip energy would be all about the journey and not the destination. road trips with oberyn and ellaria would be meandering and adventurous. sometimes you’re riding shotgun and sometimes you’re sitting in the backseat with ellaria laid out and napping beside you, sun hat dipped down covering her eyes, her long legs stretched across your lap. if the three of you come across a motel you enjoy he’ll feel no urgency to leave; the days blur together and soon you’ve spent a week soaking up sun by the pool and sleeping in late entangled together in a pile of limbs after long passionate nights. day by day you may not even travel very far; he wants to stop and explore. hike amidst rock formations, swim in hot springs, explore the local museums; whatever catches his or your fancy. if he sees a billboard on the side of the road advertising local caves, or a petrified forest, or hears rumour of nearby ghost town that’s all but disappeared off the map, you’ll suddenly find yourselves veering off down small country roads, hours from the highway, seeking out pleasure, adventure, mystery. 

marcus has a hilton rewards card so you’re staying at hilton garden inns every night. clean sheets. comfortable beds. complimentary breakfast. it’s very pleasant. middle class fancy. holds out his hand for you to drop some snacks into his palm so he can remain focused on the road while you’re both munching. let’s you curate the spotify playlists.

roadtrips with javier are always last minute decisions to just take off, head to a gorgeous but isolated beach you’d heard about that’s a few days from here. he doesn’t get many opportunities for long stretches of time off, so when he does you don’t hesitate. you might not even wait for a rational time to leave. it’s midnight and you guys just speed off into the darkness. you just threw some essentials into a bag, jumped in his jeep, and booked it. you gotta buy toothpaste and toothbrushes at a gas station, and you borrow javi’s deodorant stick because you forgot yours. greasy fast food containers, half-empty cigarette packs, and snack wrappers litter the dashboard. his aviators perched on his nose, one hand resting on the wheel, the other curled around your thigh, javi on a road trip is relaxed. he’s leaving all his burdens, his worries, everything weighing on his chest, all of it, behind him. literally, the more distance you guys put between yourselves and where you were, the more uplifted his spirits. when your favourite song comes on the radio, and you’re shimmying in your seat, he can’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze flicking between you and the road. he sings along under his breath, bobbing his head almost imperceptibly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a slow smile spreading across his face.

whiskey pulls up to your house at 5 am on the dot, the obnoxious custom sound of the horn of his bronco rattling the windows and scaring the birds out of the trees lining the street. country music jams ONLY. you argue over his taste in music; does he enjoy being a walking cliche? he will not accept any song that doesn’t have a twang to it. he’d be an aux cord hog if he knew what an aux cord even was. so much for your favourite spotify road trip playlists. “spot fly? spot what fly, where?” still has mixtapes he made himself, the same ones he’s been playing since forever. forces you listen to all his favourite songs, the ones he knows all the words to, while he obnoxiously sings along and ignores your eye-rolling. but he doesn’t ignore how your feet start tapping absentmindedly to toby keith’s ‘whiskey girl’. the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk that quickly becomes a broad grin as he reaches over to smack your thigh, laughing he’ll make a country girl of you yet. startled out of your daze, you vehemently deny you weren’t enjoying the song, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. he insists he knows the best places to stop, which means you always end up driving far off the highway to some little mom and pop diner that has killer apple pie for lunch. in the evenings you always end up in some honky-tonk bar that’s joined to a motel and yes, there’s line dancing, and yes he manages to twist your arm and convince you to join in. 

ezra…..as a man who’s floated from planet to planet, following jobs and leads, for the better part of his life, he’s found himself smooth-talking his way into being a lot of people’s unexpected travel companion out of necessity over the years. road trip ezra is on the run from someone or something; maybe the law, maybe not. all you know is this beautiful, mysterious stranger you met under dubious circumstances somehow, with his roguish grin and drawling accent, his kind eyes and eloquence, convinced you to let him ride along with you. you ran into him in the grungy diner attached to an even grungier motel in some desolate nowhere town. you recognized him; he’s unmistakably the lone figure on the side of the dusty road, his thumb stuck out, that you drove past yesterday. you’d driven past but that blonde streak had been unmissable and you won’t admit it but you’d felt his gaze on you long after you’d left him in the dust. ezra’s endless chatter on the road isn’t unwelcome; he knows seemingly innumerable facts about local folklore, flora, and fauna, and he never seems to be depleted of stories. you’d made the conscious and contrary decision to make this cross-country road trip alone, rebelling against a lot of cautionary advice, but somewhere along the way loneliness had creeped in under your skin and settled there. this handsome stranger may have an edge of danger to him but later when he’s bringing you to heights of ecstasy in a motel room you won’t give a damn.

maxwell lord flies everywhere in a private jet. the worst.

din djarin’s entire life is basically one long never-ending road trip. but in space. i figure earth-bound din on a conventional road trip would basically be how we see him: no nonsense. no frivolities. no music; travels in total silence. gets where he needs to go. stops for soup, as needed. stops for repairs, as needed. stops to work an odd job with some really sketchy people for some gas money, as needed. din’s road trip energy would be like that john mulaney joke. you’d see the mcdonalds sign lit up and shining in the distance and plead for him to stop so he’d pull into the drive-thru, order one black coffee and keep driving. except if you’ve got the baby with you; he gets a chicken nugget happy meal for the kid. he’s a good papa! and of course you’d get whatever you wanted too, he provides and cares for his loved ones after all.

SEND ME ANY QUESTIONS/HC PROMPTS/REQUESTS YOU HAVE

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 26

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15

part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

part 25

Damienette arranged marriage: part 26

-------------------------

“Hold still girl if you want to see your friend and yourself walk out of here alive!” Mayura threatened her. To enforce the point made by his partner, Hawkmoth pressed the blade closer, drawing some blood. A single droplet traveled along the edge and hit the floor. The heroine felt her whole body go stiff with fear. She silently accepted her fate when suddenly there was an ear-piercing cry of pain behind her. The blade, together with hand that was holding it, fell to the ground. Hawkmoth stumbled holding the stump that used to be his hand. Behind him Damian wiped the blood from his blade.

“Leave. My Wife. Alone!” He barked and turned to Mayura. “The game is over.” 

-------------------------------

Hawkmoth was really glad that his miraculous stopped the bleeding immediately. But at the same time the pain was almost making him see stars. So she married a batbrat…

Mayura immediately let Luka go and rushed to Hawkmoth to help him. She tried to lift him, but she was stopped when a cold blade was pressed to her neck. 

“I wouldn’t try it. He will need immediate medical attention once his transformation wears off.” Robin said through the gritted teeth. “Try not to join that list.”

Marinette was still in shock of the events that just occured, but she grabbed her yo-yo and tossed it up. “Miraculous Ladybug!” A swarm of magical energy traveled everywhere around and fixed everything, including Hawkmoth’s hand, but he was still without his weapon while Mayura was at the sword’s pointy end. The heroine walked to the defeated pain. “Gabriel Agreste, Nathalie Sanscoeur, As the Great Guardian of Miraculous I hereby renounce your right to miraculous you have abused.” With that, she plucked their jewels away. The two Kwami were ejected from them and looked at the girl with clear relief. She then turned away to collect other miraculous when suddenly a knife went through her. Adrien was standing there with fury in his eyes. 

“You’ve chosen some random american hero over me?! What does he have that I don’t!? You are a monster!” He spat at the girl. He was about to grab her miraculous when a chakram hit him and pushed him back. He stumbled and fell on the ground. Damian was about to rush him and gutter him open, but Nathalie used the distraction to tackle the hero and looked at the blond boy.

“Run! Run and don’t look back!” She shouted and turned back to the wrestle match against Robin. She was winning until other heroes didn’t come at her aid. Adrien grabbed the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous and run as fast as he could. He jumped into the platform and traveled to the underground compound. Spoiler was about to jump after him, but she turned her attention to where Ladybug laid.

Marinette had a knife going through her chest, about right where her heart was. Damian punched Nathalie hard enough for her to get knocked out cold and run to his wife.

“Angel! Can you hear me?!” He held her close.

“Dami…” She was too weak to actually say his full name. “Did… did…”

“You did it angel!” He cried loudly. “Hawkmoth and Mayura are both no more! Everything is going to be fine.”

“I… thank… you…” She managed to spit out. While she was not bleeding, having a pierced heart would still kill her slowly. He also suspected her lungs were damaged given her irregular breath and troubles with speaking.

“Save your strength. The help is on the way I am sure.” He tried to comfort her. The certainty in his voice almost convinced him that it will be okay. 

“The t-time… with you…” She had to make a break in the middle of the sentence, but she grabbed his hand tighter. “was best… in my life…” She pressed his hand to her stomach tighter.

“And we will have more time together angel. Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me damn it!” He cried.

Gabriel took advantage of the commotion and tried to sneak away, but the Gorilla stepped in his way. “Nuh Nuh.” He grumbled while shaking his head before he hit his former boss on the head like a whack-a-mole game.

Finally, the transformation surrendered and Tikki was forcefully expelled from the earrings. Blood started to fall from the wound.

“Oh Marinette! I am so sorry! I…” The kwami moaned. 

Damian stopped speaking. He just looked at his wife. She was so little, smaller than even him. He contemplated pulling the knife, but it would be pointless. 

“Can you… Can you heal her?” Sabine asked the Kwami.

“I don’t know. Oh Marinette!” Small goddess of creation nuzzled into the neck of now passed out girl. The pulse was still there, but it was getting weaker with each passing second. 

Damian took off his mask. Screw secrecy! He looked at the girl he came to adore and tightened his grip on his hand. “Don’t leave me habibti. Please don’t do it…” A single tear fell from his eye, mixing with the blood around her heart. Then the next one. And another. He allowed his emotions to surface. He didn’t care who saw what. It was his moment, his wife, his damn business and no one’s else. 

Tikki saw the pain and suffering and cursed. Cursed the laws, cursed the balance, cursed her own limitations. She was the most powerful kwami... scratch that, most powerful thing in existence. She created this whole damn world. Marinette was her greatest companion and true friend. She would not watch her Ladybug pass away so young. The Kwami floated above the girl and focused her energy. An orb of white formed around her and she launched it on Marinette. As the energy connected with her, the knife was destroyed and wound closed immediately. There was a flash of green light for just a moment, but it was quenched with another green light that came from where Damian’s tears still remained. 

There was also another pulse of energy. This one was much bigger and came from near the ring of Black Cat where Plagg just awoke after he was exhausted. Doing evil was much more tiring for Kwami. And him potentially hurting Tikki like that made the lazy cat pass out for some time. Now he sensed the balance shifting. He acted almost on instinct, but retained enough awareness to change one thing. This pulse hit everyone in the room, but it looked Like Gabriel and Nathalie got the worst of it. 

Marinette opened her eyes and graped for air, looking at Damian confused. “W-What… What just happened.”

“You are alive!” He shouted and pulled her in deep hug. She was confused at first, but embraced her husband as well.

“Marinette! You are healed…” Sabine lost her voice. “Thank you Tikki. Thank you so very much. You can have any sweets you want whenever you want!” She shouted before jumping to pull both Damian and Marinette into embrace. 

“That is indeed a great news to see Mari-hime well, but what exactly happened.” Kagami asked, voicing what everyone thought.

“I can answer that.” Plagg floated closer to them while carrying his own ring. “When Tikki used her power to heal Marinette, she disturbed the balance. Normally, it would require someone else to surrender his life force to heal her.” It was unlike the Kwami of destruction to speak in such academic tone, but most seemed to ignore this fact for now. “But since she was still alive and I was conscious I instead took some of the life energy from everyone. For next few weeks, maybe months I would advise you to avoid strenuous activities.”

“Since when do you know the word ‘strenuous’ Plagg?” Tikki giggled while looking at the other Kwami.

“I have other interests than eating cheese!” He shouted. “Besides this mogger hid my cheese behind encyclopedia and I read it while eating at night.” He murmured. Tikki would have probably laughed if not the implications behind this. She floated to her companion and pulled him in a hug. There were no words spoken, only the two of them comforting one another after so much things happened in such a short (for a Kwami) time. 

-------------------------

Next week was hard. The defeat of Hawkmoth caused severe backlash. The public swarmed Ladybug wherever she went and questioned her about details. The chaos in the city caused by the news was close to riots. People were overly ecstatic. On the bright side, the school was canceled for the time of celebrations. 

Before the heroes managed to turn their attention to Adrien he was long gone. He also wired all the funds from his father’s account somewhere. It was clear that the older Agreste had safety mechanisms in place just in case something like this happened. 

Marinette didn’t care. She would later, but for now she was just happy that she could spend some time with Damian. Since the time she almost died, the two were inseparable. Even crowbar would not help here, so back off Jason!

The trip to America came sooner than expected. Marinette’s flight left on Monday, but Damian had to return by Saturday to have everything prepared. She wanted to go with him, but Madame Bustier firmly protested, saying that all students must travel with her because she is class representative and some other utter bullshit (Damian’s words). 

Still, the bluenette came to the airport to say goodbye. It was about five in the morning and they were in private longue while waiting for the jet to be ready. Marinette kept forgetting that she was married into the richest family in the world. Then again, she did not care. Damian would mean no less to her if he was broke. 

“It’s only two days, but I will miss you” Marinette said to him when the message came that everything was set.

“Me too habibti.” He said while looking into her blueberry eyes. 

“I… Thank you. For everything.” She smiled. “If I didn’t meet you, I would probably still be fighting a losing war against Hawkmoth.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugged it off. “I did what I had to. To keep you safe I would do more.” He paused for a moment, taking another look in her beautiful eyes. She also starred back at him, the two whirlpools of emerald were mesmerizing in the morning light. They were really mesmerizing at any time of the day or night. “Marinette… Before I go. There is one more thing I wanted to tell you. The last months I spent with you were amazing.” He forced himself not to close. Damian decided that he would do it today and he would. No matter how embarrassed he was feeling right now. There was only the two of them and he turned all the cameras into loop so his family could not hack them. “For the first time I could really be myself. I am grateful for that.” 

Marinette looked at him funny. “Damian? What are you…” She didn’t finish the question because he interrupted her.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng Al Ghoul Wayne. I think I love you. No. I know I love you.” He said with an emotionless expression. It took every bit of his willpower not to run away.

She blinked. Then she blinked again. The weight of this words almost crushed her. Suddenly her legs felt weak. She tried to avoid his gaze while her mind was getting overheated. But then the courage she always showed as Ladybug filled her. She straightened up and looked him deep in his eyes again. “Damian Al Ghoul Wayne… I love you too.” She said. there was a relaxed smile on her face, but the most important part were her eyes. Damian saw only one thing in them. Love. He never saw anything like that before, but he knew that this was love in purest form. 

He grabbed her in the waist and looked at her with question. For a moment, she hesitated, understanding where this was going, but then she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled himself closer. For a moment their faces were just inch apart. This was her last chance to back away. Yet instead, she closed the distance between their lips.

--------------------------

THE END

KONIEC

--------------------------

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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu @sassakitty @corabeth11 @vixen-uchiha @lilypos03

[keigoslego]

My Little Girl

I just snorted hours worth of Aizawa being a father or a father figure and I mean, as someone with daddy issues its my time to SHINE 

Sadly there will be no Y/N here I’m still trying to figuring out how to write in that style lmao 

Warnings: The feelings of being uneeded are strong with this one (angst..??) ALSO ITS REALLY BAD BECAUSE I DID THIS ON MY PHONE (my fingers are DYING)

Shinsou leans against the stairwell, waiting for Aizawa to be done with scolding his class. Once again they snuck out of the dorms to try and figure out what Aizawa does on his free-time. Only a select few knew why this tired man was consistently running home after school whenever he got the chance. 

“Eri you can’t run down the hallways!” Mirio calls after Eri, she held a flower crown and passed by Shinsou, not batting an eye when he tried to grab her. She flings open the door with a wide smile. 

“If this happens again,” Aizawa turns to the door to see the little girl and glances to Mirio in confusion, “Eri...why?” 

Aizawa gives a warning glare to the class before turning his attention to the girl, he walks over and leans down to match her height, in the corner of his eye he notices Shinsou and another girl hiding behind his leg. Aizawa’s eyes widen a bit but he quickly covers his surprise and picks Eri up. 

“Eri made this! I was told not to run but we waited by the gate and you didn’t come out,” Eri rambles placing the crown on his head. The class stiffens, trying not to burst into laughter. 

Aizawa sighs and makes quick eye contact to the little girl clinging to Shinsou’s leg. He turns to the class and rolls his eyes, “I’ll be finishing the discussion with you tonight.” 

The class cheers and everyone jumps out of their seat, some running up to say hi to Eri and Mirio while others make their way to the dorms. The little girl clinging to Shinsou starts to tremble when she sees everyone pour out of the doors. 

“Hey,” Shinsou gives a small smile, looking down at the girls jet-black eyes that were starting to water, “Should we go on ahead?” 

The girl nods slowly, Shinsou hoists her up and covers her head with his jacket. It’s a well known fact that she can’t handle crowds well and will often freeze up when she can’t figure out whats going to happen, “I-I wanted to surprise daddy with the flower crown too but...I couldn’t calculate the outcome” 

Shinsou laughs, “You came inside the building this time! It’s a big improvement.”

She lifts her head up slightly, causing the jacking to fall a little bit. Looking at the floor she starts to count each tile in her head, trying to calculate the steps it takes to get to the faculty office. 

“I’m not the only one seeing a kid in Shinsou’s arms...right?” Kirishima whispers to Bakugou. The two of them look at her and slightly tilt their head, trying to get a better look at her face. Only for the pair to enter the faculty office before anything else could be seen. 

“Is that my little angel?!” Hizashi beams running over and prying her out of Shinsou’s arms. Shinsou takes his jacket and tosses it on the empty desk, rolling his eyes when Hizashi starts tossing the girl in the air. 

“S-Shin I-I,” She starts to cry, unable to handle the sudden switch. 

“Oh no baby I’m sorry,” Hizashi stops and pats her head giving her a warm smile. She reaches for Shinsou, squirming out of President Mic’s arms. He sighs in defeat, handing her over. 

“I knew you would be too rough with her,” Shinsou sighs, “You know she isn’t Eri.” 

The little girl snuggles into Shinsou’s neck, slowly calming down. Moments later the door opens and Aizawa, Eri and Mirio joins the three of them. Aizawa is still holding Eri although now the crown has shifted, almost falling off of his head. 

“Is daddy here?” The little girl whispers to Shinsou. 

Shinsou sits on one of the chairs and shifts the girl so her head would be on his other shoulder, “Mhm,” he answers. 

Aizawa glances over to Shinsou and his only daughter, he could only give a small smile in their direction before Eri said something to him, causing him to explain things to her with Mirio. 

“I’m happy for Eri,” The little girl mumbles, tightening her grip on Shinsou’s shirt. 

“Why?” Shinsou asks. He starts to draw small circles on her back and slightly moves to chair side to side. 

“I mean Daddy is giving her so much love!” She says this a bit louder than she meant to, causing everyone in the room to go silent. Noticing the quick silence she starts to panic, “I-I get it too! I’m not mad or anything I’m just happy for her yknow? She had to go through so much and I never had to go through anything like she did so I’m happy shes getting love! P-Plus even if I do get lonely which is n-never! But if I ever did I could j-just come to you!” 

Hizashi gives a worried look to Aizawa, “Angel, you’re allowed to ask for your dad you know that right?” 

“I can always switch you spots!” Eri grins. 

The girl lifts her head, and slowly turns to her father. Aizawa has a confused yet worried look. He tilts his head, wanting her to give an answer. She quickly turns away and hugs Shinsou harder, “I was just being selfish! I’m fine with how things are.” 

“Are you sure?” Aizawa asks, raising an eyebrow. Seeing him hold Eri, always made his daughter a bit upset. Aizawa was already a busy man, he had many things to do as a pro-hero but he was also a teacher at U.A who rarely came home. Even before Eri came into the picture she didn’t spend a lot of time with her father. Her mother was out of the picture and she would just stay at the house most times until her father came home to receive the attention. It used to be her in those arms everyday...not Eri. 

She understood Eri’s situation and was very nice about sharing all of her things with her. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a bit lonely when the little amount of attention she got was quickly used for Eri. Because she also possessed a quirk cancelling quirk like her father, she was told to use it on Eri if a problem were to arise. It was the only thing her father asked of her, ever. So she took it very seriously, by never leaving her side and following her everywhere. Even if it meant watching her dad choose Eri over her. 

The little girl nods, “I’m positive!”

Aizawa returns his attention to Eri, scolding her lightly about her behavior earlier. Meanwhile his daughter squeezes harder and harder against Shinsou.

“Shin,” The little girl mumbles.

“Mm?” Shinsou continues to rub light circles on her back.

The girl lets out a small almost inaudible sigh, “I’m glad I can hug you”

This was picked up on Hizashi who sat closer to the pair now, his heart broke at the sight. Shinsou leaned his head on hers and starts to rub her back.

“Of course,” he states.

“I’ll be taking Eri back,” Aizawa says. He looks over to Shinsou and his daughter, “Cmon.”

“They’ll join you later,” Hizashi speaks up with a smile. Aizawa raises his eyebrows in confusion but only nods and leaves the room.

She doesn’t speak again until they could no longer hear Eri’s giggles echoing in the hallway.

“I’m sorry ‘Zashi,” The little girl says.

“Angel you didn’t do anything wrong,” Hizashi quickly reassures.

“I’m selfish,” The little girl snuggles into Shinsou more, relishing his comforting scent and heat.

“Enough of that,” Shinsou grunts.

“It’s true though,” She smiles to herself, “I know Eri didn’t have the love she needed for a long time. Yet here I am...wanting to take her away from Dad. I’m supposed to look out for her when Dad can’t and I’m jealous. She deserves that spot, while I don’t. It’s weird not running into his arms,” her voice cracks as tears pool in her eyes, “I’m being childish for wanting to be in his arms. It’s not my turn yet, I’ve had his love for years and now it’s time for me to let Eri have it. I know this yet I— I can’t stop wanting to be the first one he says ‘I’m home’ to. I can’t stop wanting to run to him when he comes home like I used to,” she whimpers, “I...I cant stop myself from wanting him to hold me when I have a nightmare. I have them so often yknow? I wake up to crawl into his arms and yet they’re already full.”

“Oh baby,” Hizashi frowns, “you know he would drop everything for you right?”

“He’s a busy man,” she cries, “I-I can’t trouble him, I already do that by existing.”

The room goes into silence once more, Shinsou and Hizashi look at each other, not knowing what to say. Shinsou holds her tighter, allowing her to squeeze him harder in return.

“You know he loves you,” Shinsou whispers to her.

“It’s not my turn for his love,” she chuckles, trying to wipe her tears away.

“Don’t say that baby,” Hizashi says softly.

“I’ve calculated the outcome already! Eri and Dad grow close and sooner or later he doesn’t need me anymore,” she squeezes Shinsou’s shirt, “and then Eri will be happy! She’ll have all the love in the world.”

Hizashi turns to the door, Aizawa leans against the doorpost, arms crossed. His face held a very serious expression as he processed his daughters words.

“If you could ask your dad anything,” Hizashi says glancing back to her, “what would it be?”

The little girl lifts her head slightly, “I want him to..love me?”

As soon as she was done, she was taken out of Shinsou’s lap. Aizawa held her tightly, pushing her head on his shoulder, “I’m taking her now.”

“W-Wait,” the girl starts to panic, squirming around in her dads arms, “I’m sorry!”

“Enough,” Aizawa snaps. He carries her to a secluded part of one of the hallways and sets her down. Staring at her puffy eyes he gently smiles, “I love you.”

The girl shakes her head, “What about Eri? Where is she?”

Aizawa leans down to match her height, “She’s fine.”

“Shouldn’t you be with—”

She was cut off by Aizawa pulling her into his chest, “I love you,” he squeezes her, “I love you more than the world, more than my job, more than my students...I love you more than anything.”

“H-Huh?” The girl freezes.

“I’m sorry,” Aizawa kisses the top of her head, “I’m sorry I didn’t see your pain baby, I should have known better.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” The little girl mumbles.

“You don’t have to be so strong by yourself,” He pulls her away to smile at her, “You can always call for me and I’ll come running,” Aizawa liters her face in quick kisses, “no matter what I’m doing...I’ll come running”

The girl wipes her face, “you’re being weird.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted my attention,” Aizawa smirks before repeating the action, “I. Love. You.” He said between each kiss.

“Ew,” the girl giggles, “Your chin is scratching me.”

“I have to let you know that I love you!” Aizawa grins.

“Okay okay I get it,” the girl hugs Aizawa, “I missed you.”

Aizawa hums, “I’ve missed you too baby.”

. . . 

Eri and The little girl stare at the 1-A door, Mirio was right behind them, silently encouraging them to open the door. 

“I promise he won’t be mad,” Mirio says placing his hand on the little girl. 

Eri slams open the door and runs up to Aizawa who was about to hand out packets, “Eri’s here!” 

Aizawa looks over to Mirio, “I can’t keep having my class-” 

He stops talking when he notices his daughter wearing a miniature version of his hero costume, she slowly took a couple steps into the classroom and stared at him. 

“Oh my god,” Kirishima squeals. 

“Wait who is that-” Izuku whips out his journal. 

“D-Da-Daddy!” The little girl spits out, covering her face in embarrassment.

“DADDY?!” The class shouts. The little girl jumps and quickly hides behind the large desk. 

“Say it!” Mirio grins. The little girl slowly comes out of her hiding spot and faces her dad again, he hasn't moved from his spot, still in shock from what he is seeing his daughter wear. 

“I-If you’re g-g-gonna become a hero! Y-you don’t have time for such l-leisurely events!” She points to him. 

Aizawa’s face cracks into a smile (which terrifies the class) and swoops to pick his daughter up, “Who dressed you so cute hm?”

“I was told by ‘Zashi that you would like it,” the girl beams.

“I never knew Aizawa had a kid,” Izuku mumbles writing things down.

“She will totally be one sexy babe in 10 years,” Mineta giggles.

Sadly, Mineta was strug up in the classroom by Aizawa.

Left alone until the next day.

[malgal7777]

Hiking with Tracy 2021:  Weekend 3, the Lost Weekend

As I went back to re-read my blog I noticed I had cut off my WHOLE weekend of 4/17!!  This is my 20 mile walk from the Emeryville Marina to the Richmond Marina and back via the Bay Trail along the water & Hwy 80.  So let me try to reenact my journey!

The theme of this hike was “Don't tell me this town ain't got no heart, you just gotta poke around” - Once again I tip my hat to the great Jerry Garcia.  Not sure if you all figured it out, but I love Jerry.  I came to the Bay Area to follow the Grateful Dead’s music and I never left.  

This particular hike was absolutely beautiful.  I wish it wasn’t so I can mix this blog up, but sorry folks, you live in a beautiful area.  Even along a dirty highway, there are things of beauty all around you.  Take for example this hike, wildflowers everywhere.  Even popping out of the sidewalk.  I'm reminded of Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park...”Life refuses to be contained...it just finds a way”.  And sure enough, Sunflowers out of the sidewalk!

Since I was next to a highway, I went with headphones this time around.  One of my positives during this pandemic is my rekindled love for music radio stations.  I love listening to a radio station and I definitely have my favorite DJ’s. My personal favorites this past year were:  WWOZ - a local New Orleans station; KCSM - a Bay Area jazz station and KXT - out of Dallas, TX.  These stations literally kept me sane during the lockdowns.  I highly recommend them, especially if you’re cooking, doing chores or working in the garden. 

This particular morning I went with WWOZ.  And what a good decision that was.  Ron Phillips was spinning his favorite Saturday morning tunes and I was going down the road feeling BAD (as in good)!  Irma Thomas, Anders Osborne, The Subdudes and a little known singer/songwriter out of New Orleans, Chris Smithers.  If you get overwhelmed and about to burst...stream Chris Smithers “Let it Go”.  So funny.   Anders Osborne is a name my friends have been trying to get me into for a long time.  And I’m a bozo, definitely missed the boat on this one!  From his new album, try this song:  Welcome to Earth.  

Ok, so I digress!  Back to the walk.  In one of my last posts, I mentioned the people I meet.  Well this am was a doozy!  As I was grooving to the sweet sounds of the Crescent City I was approached by a group of ladies.  They had a question for me:  What’s more important in a relationship:  Love or Economics?  My first response was “Wow, you ladies don’t mess around for a Saturday morning!  Going deep on me”.  But, because I’m me, I had an answer. Now usually I would have said Love, Love, Love.  Hands down right?  But they caught me at a weird time.  I have been obsessively thinking of a comment I overheard from another group of ladies while doing my Diablo hike.  One of them had commented “I have no desire to marry just for love.  Forget that, I need to be economically stable”.  My reaction was pity for this poor girl.  I literally felt sorry for her.  The more I thought about it (obsessively for two weeks) I came to realize, she didn’t necessarily say she wasn’t going to work, she just wanted someone with their shit together and would contribute to their family being comfortable.  What’s wrong with that?  Is being comfortable taboo now?  So when my Bay Trail friends asked me, that’s how I answered.  Love was great but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be comfortable, isn’t that love after all?  I obviously made one of the women very happy.  She loved it.  The other two nodded and smiled, they were on Love’s side.  So we said our goodbyes and I felt like I had gotten a weight off my shoulders.  As I was walking away though...I asked myself...But didn’t YOU marry for love?  And sure enough, I did.  Bob & I didn’t have a pot to piss in.  And while we’re not the Rockefeller's, we’re comfortable enough for us.  I love him dearly and love has to be the basis that you build your financial future upon.  If you don’t have that, it get’s ugly when $$ is involved.  The best part of this moment was that song “Welcome to Earth” was playing as I was coming to this realization and the last line is literally “Love is always the answer”.  The Universe works in mysterious ways!  But, where were the ladies...I wanted to change my answer??!!  No where to be found.  Man, I blew it.  I would now obsessively think about this for the next 20 miles. Told you I was a bozo. 

By this time I had reached The Albany bulb.  A Bay Area gem to the north of Golden Gate Fields.  There’s a great beach and then it jets out into a peninsula which is covered with art installations all over.  I’ll talk more about that later, since I came back on Sunday to finish my 25 miles. This morning though I watched a group of swimmers about to enter the freezing bay waters, no wet suit mind you!  CRAZY and No Thank You!  Brrr.   Next Stop, Point Isabel, dog heaven.  A large open spaced off-leach dog park.  I go there all the time.  If you have a dog, you should take them.  They will love you even more than they already do. 

Now past Point Isabel is where the trail gets interesting.  You start to wander away from the highway and are now among the prettiest beaches and marshes. It’s an interesting view of the Bay Bridge and you can no longer see the Golden Gate Bridge as you veer north of it.  You now start to come upon single family homes along the trail.  You’re instantly reminded of Cape Cod.  A ocean view from Richmond, CA.  The best part is once you see this neighborhood you know you’re close to the marina.  And sure enough, I turned the bend and there in front of me was the Ford Assembly plant, my 1/2 way point.  But, it’s a very cruel joke.  You see the plant across the opening of the marina, it’s literally right there!!  Then the realization hits you in order to get to it you need to go around the WHOLE marina.  And as you continue to walk and go around another bend, the sidewalk gets longer and longer and longer.  The Richmond Marina is HUGE. Lovely though.  Large green spaces with people doing yoga;  a ladies bootcamp class along the water; boats coming and going from the marina and two pretty cute restaurants also along the water.  

I finally made it to the Ford Assembly Plant and now Richmond Ferry Terminal.  The assembly plant hosts seasonal events, we’ve been to the women’s roller derby ones.  Nothing like watching tough chicks bully each other on roller skates.  Then there are a few businesses strewn throughout the building.  Dolls Kill, which I believe is a clothing business for those on the freakier side of the spectrum.  And Mountain Hardware!  Quality clothing for the outdoorsy types.  I should have gone in and gotten a windbreaker.  The wind was pretty brutal.  

The best part was of course the Rosie The Riveter museum.  A museum dedicated to the women that left the kids at home and joined the workforce to help build ships during WWII.  This whole area was built for the war effort.  Richmond grew from 25,000 to over 100,000 within three years!!!  Can you imagine?  How does any town build the infrastructure needed to maintain that population?  Grocery stores?  Clothing? Schools?  Highly recommended.  It’s a suggested donation, so don’t be cheap, donate.  You won’t be disappointed.  I once brought Charlotte and a couple of her Girl Scout troop there to meet a real life “Rosie”.  She told the girls her story and it was of course about LOVE!  The trials and tribulations of her and her partner as he was fighting in the war and she was here making the ships that would keep him safe.  Man, where were those 3 ladies!!  

The way back was pretty much the same. I made it!  Now onto Sunday, 4/18. The Albany Bulb!  A Bay Area gem.  Bob & I have been coming here for years.  Way back when it was a landfill full of broken concrete slabs and rebar.  Some artist types took it upon themselves to start living there.  They kept the concrete slabs and rebar and started to make installations out of them.  Giant sized figures;  rows of wooden paintings; mazes and one guy even built a concrete castle along the water facing the Golden Gate Bridge.  Best real estate in the Bay.  They exemplified the phrase “one mans trash is another man’s treasure”.  Of course the stuffed shirts got wind and kicked them out.  But gave the stuffed shirts an idea...Hey, why not make a park out of this dirty unused lot?  Duh.  So before you harass your kid for taking art classes, remember it’s usually the artists who push the rest of society in the right direction.  

It’s also a great place to bird watch and now the wildflowers are a blooming, so it’s quite serene.  If you’re looking for some inspiration, this is the place for you.  

So my posts/weeks are a bit out of order.  Oh well!  It’s my blog and I’ll create chaos if I want to!  

I’ll end on this note:  Love is ALWAYS the answer. 

So sponsor me (hehehe):  https://runsignup.com/tracyalbert/Donate

[percyscourt]

To All The Girls I've Loved Before / Percy Jackson AU

based more on the film version than the novel

Percy Jackson is a 16 year-old hopeless romantic with stormy eyes, a mischevious smile, and jet black hair that spills all over his eyes. He falls and hard, usually liking people for a long time. Instead of telling his crushes, though, he instead writes each a letter- letters he never even thinks once about sending. Each letter is addressed to each of his five (5) main crushes, equipped with why, when, and how he fell for each of them

letter #1: annabeth chase. annabeth chase was percy's first kiss back at a party in seventh grade. it was only for a second, due to a game of spin the bottle, but it was as if the world lit up to percy. in the letter, he reveals that even though annabeth was dating his then-bestfriend, Luke Castellan, percy continued to secretly like her for the rest of seventh grade and most of eighth. the one thing percy loved the most about annabeth was also the one he hated the most; everybody liked her, and it was impossible for him not to fall for her. in his eyes and the eyes of most, she was perfect.

letter #2: rachel elizabeth dare. rachel elizabeth dare was the first person percy liked after getting over his crush on annabeth. it all started on a rainy day when they had to put up the PE's gym bats. rachel was the only one who ever called percy PJ, and he secretly loved it. he also wished he had a nickname for her. their time together was short-lived though, because rachel moved away at the start of the summer after eighth grade. after she left, percy wrote the letter admitting that he wished something had happened between them, even saying he wish she never left.

letter #3: thalia grace. thalia grace was percy's date to homecoming in ninth grade. in his letter, he admitted that he fell for thalia due to her grace- no pun intended- and witty comments all while they danced. percy admitted the crush lasted a little while, and grew even bigger from their english class presentations because thalia just seemed so confident. he ended the letter with a question, what kind of boys did thalia like? was he one of them?

letter #4: calypso from camp. calypso and percy went to the same camp the summer after eighth grade. this romance was very short-lived and percy never even learned her last name. he started liking her after she showed him how to make a shell necklace during arts-and-crafts, but when camp ended, he wrote the letter then sort of forgot about her.

letter #5: silena beauregard. percy actually wrote on two different occasions for silena. after silena moved in the neighborhood when percy was going into sixth and she was going into seventh, her, percy, and percy's older brother, Charles "charlie", all became friends very quickly. the first part of the letter was written when charlie and silena started dating when percy was in ninth grade. percy admitted in the letter that he wished that him and silena got more alone time, despite her relationship with his brother. due to respect for his brother, though he never finished the letter. that is, until charlie broke up with silena right before leaving for college. percy finished the letter on another page, stating how the breakup made him realize that he still had unresolved feelings for silena left over. though again, he said nothing could ever happen between them because of charlie.

it was september of percy's high school junior year when the letters get out. charlie's away at college, leaving percy and tyson alone to fight amongst themselves. after a particularly bad fight, tyson sent out all the letters while percy was asleep.

the next monday, percy was running laps outside at pe when was approached by a very confused annabeth clutching her letter. percy, being as graceful as he is, fainted. when he woke up, not only was annabeth staring down at him, still confused, but silena was also walking towards him, her own letter in hand. so, he did the only thing he could think of- he reached for annabeth and kissed her. annabeth seemed surprised but still kissed him back, and the kiss lasted for what seemed like minutes to percy. when they finally broke apart silena is nowhere in sight. almost as quickly as percy kissed annabeth, he runs.

he runs all the way into school where he runs into thalia grace. "percy! thank gosh!" it takes all of percy's willpower to stop himself from fainting when he sees that thalia also is holding her letter. "uh, you know i'm aromantic, right? i mean, you're sweet, and i totally had fun at homecoming, but i don't-" percy's face turns a bright shade of red. "yeah, yeah, of course. it was a long time ago anyway. uh, can we talk later?" as soon as thalia nods, percy heads to his locker and leaves school, running like the devil was chasing him (percy put off taking his driving test due to the fact that his extreme ADHD made it really hard to concentrate on the road, so he mostly ran everywhere)

when he got home, he ran to his closet to see that all the letters had been sent. one good thing- his letter to calypso had been mailed back, as he didn't know her address. bad thing? everybody else's had sent, and he didn't know how to do damage control.

a little after his mother and brother got home, percy still was trying to figure out how the letters had gotten out. he was tearing apart his room for the fifth time when his mom called up to him; "Percy! Silena's here! Looks like she really wants to talk to you!" percy, of course, instead, hopped down the stairs of the fire escape and headed to his favorite diner, the Big House Diner

when he got there, he immediately asked for his regular order and waited. since he was too busy looking out the window, he didn't realize that somebody had sat down next to him. "Hey, Jackson." percy looked over to see annabeth not even three feet away from his spot at the bar. the waitress came over, asked for annabeth's order, and then left. in attempt to make things less awkward, percy asked annabeth what she was doing there. she was quiet for a while before admitting she had asked Tyson where she could find Percy. "Look, I just wanna be super clear." percy realized annabeth was trying to turn him down and quickly spoke up, "Annabeth, I'm not trying to date you."

after annabeth still kept going, percy explained the letters and then admitted he had only kissed annabeth because he saw silena coming. when annabeth just looked at him confused, percy told her how his brother was no longer dating silena but it would be super awkward if silena believed percy still liked her. "Wait, so. I'm not the only girl that got a letter? Damn, Jackson, you're a player"

Annabeth kept asking who percy sent the letters to, and he ended up telling her about all of them. Just as percy was about to leave, annabeth stopped him. "Did you...walk here?" moments later, percy was getting a ride home in annabeth's jeep. annabeth drove him home but neither of them said anything for awhile. finally, annabeth asked percy what he was going to do about silena, to which percy admitted he had no clue, but that he maybe still liked silena.

before percy got into his house, annabeth had gotten out of the car to stop him. "What if you didn't tell her? What if we let people think we were actually together?" annabeth explained how when luke heard about the kiss, he went ballistic, and how he'd want to get back together soon enough if he thought percy and annabeth were a thing. annabeth left him to think about her proposition, and percy was up almost all night thinking about it

the next day during free period, percy and annabeth met up on the outside benches. "first, if we're doing this, we need rules." "seriously, Jackson?" "Lists help me focus my thoughts."

Percy and Annabeth's rules: 'Annabeth will play with Percy's hair' 'Percy has to read at least one of Annabeth's favorite books' Annabeth has to watch Finding Nemo with Percy, because it's a classic' 'Annabeth will write Percy notes everday' Both people can never tell anybody the relationship is fake' 'Percy has to come to Annabeth's lacrosse games. And the parties.' Annabeth has to drive Percy and Tyson to school' 'Annabeth and Percy have to have better nicknames for each other than just their last names'

"You like the beach, right?" "Yeah, why?" "Then I'll call you Seaweed Brain." "I wish you wouldn't....Wise Girl"

And lastly, 'Percy must go on the school ski trip with me' Percy agreed, secretly thinking to himself that since it was three months away, they probably wouldn't still be doing this. but instead of saying that, he said, "Okay. Deal." both signed, then shook on it for extra measure

the next day, october 1st, their contract was put into motion. percy woke up, got ready for school, and sure enough, when he and tyson walked out of their house, there annabeth was, waiting to drive them in her jeep

as soon as they got into the car, annabeth turned to talk to tyson. "hey, little Percy, what's that?" "it's our mom's famous blue breakfast smoothie. and my name- thanks for asking- is Tyson. Ty to my friends. So, you can call me Tyson." Annabeth smiled, turned to Percy and said, "He's got spunk. I like him." tyson pretended not to hear but percy could tell he was pleased based on his small smile. he wasted no time, though, and immediately asked why the heck annabeth was driving them. "Well, I'm your brother's girlfriend." this response from annabeth came so suddenly that percy almost spit out all of his smoothie. "Can I try some of that, Tyson?" 'Sure' "Oh wow, that is really good. If I drive you guys to school again, will you get me another one of those?" "If you keep driving us to school, you can call me Ty."

as soon as percy and annabeth walked into school, percy knew that people knew. for one thing, when annabeth and percy walked to class together, people started saying his name, started noticing him. "Hey, Percy!" was like a chorus all around him- even from the principal, Mr. D- who had only ever called Percy "Peter" before

when percy and annabeth walked into lunch, annabeth threw her head back in a laugh, brought it down in between percy's shoulder and head, then reached up and played with his hair. she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a note. "This is for you." Annabeth reached up to kiss Percy's cheek and whispered in his ear a quiet "Good job" before breaking away from him, giving Percy a good view of Luke Castellan. And by good, Percy meant horrible. Luke managed to look equal parts bored and murderous at the same time, and Percy quickly made his way to the cafeteria for some water

right before he got into the doorway, percy was suddenly pulled back. "This Chase thing is fucking insane, Perc!" it was Grover Underwood, Percy's best friend since the beginning of middle school. grover never really talked to anybody at school, but instead preferred hanging out with college kids. he was probably the last person that percy thought would be excited over this. the rest of the day percy got equal reactions from everybody else, not to mention a lot of comments and compliments from random girls

when he got home, percy realized he hadn't called charlie or answered his calls in almost a week. it took him maybe two hours after getting home to work up the courage to call him. "Finally. I feel like we haven't talked in forever, so... lay everything on me." percy debated on how to start, before finally settling on first talking about literally anything and anybody else besides him, silena, or annabeth. "Mom and I are making her famous blue cookies for Ty's bake sale." "Bro, cookies? Nah, nah, you've got to do brownies. They're easier." percy was about to argue when charlie started on a different topic.

"So have you heard from Silena recently?"

of course, in regular percy fashion, he started rambling. "Silena? who? oh, like our neighbor? her? uh, well, no, we don't....I mean I- I'm going to go make the cookies. See ya!" quicker than charlie could reply bye, percy hung up.

he was in the middle of getting out ingredients when his doorbell rang. it was annabeth. "Did you not read my note? We're going to Clarisse's party tonight." percy opened his mouth just as his mom walked through the door. "Annabeth Chase? Oh, my, you grew up so beautifully! You're so tall now!" Sally Jackson pulled Annabeth into a quick, yet strong hug in welcoming. all it took was annabeth to mention the party for sally to not only tell percy he was going, but that she would bake the cookies for him, and that he couldn't be home before ten but also not after one. "Of course, no drugs! Other than that, please have fun."

before he knew it, percy found him and annabeth standing outside of Clarisse La Rue's house. just as Percy reached to pull his sweatshirt hood over his head, annabeth slapped his hand away. "what're you doing? your hair looks so much better when you don't have that hood over it. give it to me." after taking his sweatshirt, annabeth put it on herself. she took his phone, took a picture of herself, then set it as his lockscreen. for the finishing effect, she looped his arm around her shoulders and let him lead the way inside.

walking into the party was just as school had been; annabeth introduced percy to her friends, people said hi to him, etc. it took only about five minutes for luke to spot him, and when he did, he invited percy to sit. percy sat down on the couch where luke and the Stoll brothers were sitting together. "So, what's going on with you and Annie?" percy didn't even open his mouth before Connor and Travis were bombarding him with questions of how, when, everything. "Shut up, guys. It's not like they're ever gonna do anything. Annabeth has only been with me and...I bet Percy's never even kissed a girl before."

apparently he didn't care about percy's reaction, because luke suddenly left, and his spot was replaced by annabeth, holding a cup for both herself and percy. "Let's take a picture together- for my phone." percy stared at her dumbly for maybe ten seconds trying to figure out what to do. he finally settled on one of the most cliché poses he saw on insta- he kissed her cheek.

annabeth left to go talk to her team and suddenly percy was alone. just as fast as he was alone, he wasn't. suddenly thalia grace was there. "I guess your letter worked, huh? Don't worry, your secret's safe with me"

while percy and thalia talked, annabeth went to the bathroom. in perfect character, luke followed her in, and immediately started talking. "So Jackson, eh? That's cute. Oh! Is this his sweatshirt? Do you mind? It's chilly." Luke took the sweatshirt from where Annabeth had set it on the counter, but instead of wearing it, he tied it around his neck like a polo scarf. of course, annabeth asked for it back. "No, I think I'll keep it for awhile, okay Annie?"

annabeth found percy, and after saying goodbye to thalia, they headed over to the Big House Diner. as soon as they got there, annabeth praised and praised percy for his "excellence performance in making luke jealous." percy shrugged, but he could feel heat rising on his face. to add on to that heat, annabeth started talking about when they were kids. "you've always had better style than Luke, and i think it made him jealous. better hair, too." of course, all through dinner, annabeth's phone was blowing up- with texts from luke. "So you guys still talk, then?" percy knew how he sounded- jealous- but annabeth didn't comment on his tone. "Sometimes. Hey, don't judge!" "Don't call him tonight."

they spent the rest of the night talking about the love letters, why percy hadn't had a girlfriend yet, why annabeth was still hung up on luke, etc. after dinner, annabeth drove percy home, reminding him to be ready the next morning for school. percy got ready for bed after responding to Annabeth's new instagram post of them, but stayed awake for a long time. when he finally did fall asleep, he went to bed with a smile on his face

by november, they had the fake dating thing down pact. percy would eat with annabeth's lacrosse team at lunch and bring them some of his mom's baked goods, percy and annabeth would call each other nicknames, etc. percy had to admit it was a nice change of pace, but he still caught himself feeling a little bit lost sometimes. especially when he started noticing silena staring across the cafeteria at him everyday

it was maybe the fifth week of percy and annabeth's relationship when silena showed up at percy's door wanting to talk. "I can't believe you're dating Annabeth." percy let silena rant about this "unlikely relationship" before cutting her off to ask if there was anything else. "Did you mean everything...in the letter?" "I don't know, okay? It was a long time ago." "So what am I supposed to do? I'm not going to tell Charlie or anything; he doesn't even talk to me anymore. Gosh, are we not even friends anymore Percy?" "I'm sorry, Silena. We can't talk right now."

percy forced himself to stop thinking about silena, and instead put all his effort into his relationship with annabeth. the only problem? percy was worried about the endgame. his mom and tyson were both so attached to annabeth at that point that percy couldn't imagine how they'd react when their thing stopped. it wasn't just his family he was worried about, either. he had had multiple family dinners at the Chase house, and he found that he actually enjoyed them

not only were their families getting closer, percy realized that so were he and annabeth. sometimes when they talked, their relationship seemed so scarily real that he couldn't breathe. they would talk about how percy's dad had passed away, how annabeth had run away from home and had an absent mother, everything.

percy, instead of talking to annabeth, turned to silena instead. he talked about how he felt himself falling for annabeth, for real, and silena listened to everything he had to say without any input. of course, annabeth hated the fact they still talked, maybe just as much as percy hated seeing luke and annabeth talk

Percy became so worried that he was falling for annabeth that all he wanted to do was call the whole thing off. "You know, maybe we should just call it." "Not before the ski trip, Seaweed Brain!" "Fine. I'll go. But only if Grover comes with."

Percy asked Grover, assuming he would say no, then almost killed him when he answered yes. percy spent the weeks leading up to the trip split between packing and worrying. on the way there, he sat with grover and slept the entire time. when they got there, he not so subtlety ignored and evaded annabeth's attempts to hang out together. him and grover ended up rooming together, and when grover went out, percy invited thalia over to their room to talk. he told her all about annabeth, the letters, the fake relationship, the maybe real feelings, everything. of course, thalia told him to do something, anything. "She obviously likes you, you know."

before he could talk himself out of it, percy had put on a jersey over his boxes. he headed down to the hot tub where thalia said annabeth would probably be waiting. sure enough, when percy got there, annabeth was all alone. "Now you want to hang out? I wanted to sit next to you on the bus Percy, and you ignored me, you know." it took percy a solid two minutes to realize what annabeth was trying to get at. before he could second guess it, he was in the hot tub, and then he was only an inch away from annabeth's face. and then they were kissing. and then percy slipped, dragging annabeth under with him. but they were still kissing, and all percy could think was that this had to be the best underwater kiss of all time

after the hot tub, percy walked annabeth back to her room and they kissed goodnight. for the rest of the ski trip, they were like this- affectionate, happy, and real. the morning they were leaving, percy, as always, was late- the very last on the bus. when he finally got on the bus, it erupted in cheers. "Jackson, you dog!" people reached over to slap his back and shoulders as he made his way to sit by annabeth. he thought about asking annabeth about it, but no sooner than he sat down had she started using his shoulder as a pillow, so he decided to forget about it.

when they got back to school, luke stopped percy before he could leave. "It's so cool that you came on the ski trip, you know? Almost as cool as how understanding you are about Annie and I's friendship. Like, a lot of boys would be a little mad that their girlfriend slept in another guy's room, but you're just really mature I guess. Oh! And it's sweet how you're okay with Annie still giving me gifts, like this sweatshirt here. Anyway, have a great break, Jackson."

when Annabeth came over to drive percy home, he told her he'd rather walk instead. he headed home in the fifty degree weather, and had only been walking a minute before he broke into a full sprint. when percy got home, he was so distracted that he didn't see tyson in the living room. as always, tyson tackled him before he could even say hi. then, just as he broke away, suddenly charlie was there, hugging both of them. it was so good to have both his brothers there with him that percy almost forgot about annabeth. almost.

it was an hour before dinner when annabeth showed up, voice loud and eyes watering. "Nothing happened between me and Luke that night, okay? We have history, he was sad, I helped him, but nothing happened Percy."

percy could barely listen and had barely gotten a word in when a third voice stepped in. "Maybe you should leave, Annabeth." Silena stood next to Percy, back straight and protective. "This is why you want to break up? Not because of Luke and I, but her? Are you seriously in love with this...Kardashian wannabe?!" suddenly, there was a fourth voice. "You're in love with Silena?" "Charlie, c'mon man, wait! Both of you need to leave. Now" "You were never second best, Percy. I promise."

just as percy went to go talk to charlie, his phone rang. somebody had sent him a video- of him and annabeth in the hot tub. 'It's always the geeky guys that try to act hard, isn't it?' percy threw his phone and stayed in his room for almost two days straight. when he finally left, he went down the hall to charlie's room.

"I'm so stupid" percy and charlie talked about everything, the letters, the video, silena, annabeth; and by the third hour of talking, percy and charlie were no longer fighting, just catching up

"Let's not have anymore secrets between the Jackson brothers now, okay?" Tyson said as soon as he saw they had made up. "That includes me. I sent the letters, okay? I'm sorry." Percy smiled for only a minute before moving to attack Tyson with Charlie's punching glove. "If I can forgive you for writing Silena a letter, don't you think you can forgive Ty for sending them?" he hated it, but Percy couldn't argue with that logic, and he forgave tyson fast.

fast forward to new year's, and percy still hadn't talked to annabeth. instead, he spent most days at the community indoor pool, all day. it got so bad that one time his mom picked him up an hour earlier than usual. "Come on, let's go for a drive, alright?" after percy got dressed in sweats, his mom took him to the Big House. "Your father and I used to dance here, you know, using the jukebox." percy stayed quiet; his mother never talked about his father anymore, not ever since he was confirmed dead at sea. his mom used this silence to her advantage and continued to talking, but switched to a different topic. "Seeing you with Annabeth was really...good. For all of us, I think. You guys seem to really like each other."

when percy got back to school, the video had been taken down. of course, there was a photo on his locker of them. 'Told her not to trust him. I bet he slipped her something. She would never get into a hottub with him out of her own free-will.' while percy stared at the message, grover ripped it down, and suddenly annabeth was there, screaming. "Hey! It was my choice to get in that hottub. If you want to shame, shame me, but leave Percy out of it, because he didn't do anything wrong to me, okay? He's probably the nicest guy here and you're all just asshats that can't see it"

after her speech, annabeth headed over to percy. "I'm sorry." "I've got to talk to somebody else, first, Annabeth." Percy looked all around school until he found who he was looking for. "Seriously, Luke? What the hell's your problem, man?" "You, Percy. You have been since you kissed my girlfriend in seventh grade. You broke the bro code first, remember?" percy couldn't believe that luke cared about that kiss, maybe more so than percy had when he wrote annabeth her letter. percy suddenly wasn't mad at luke, he was....sorry? for him. he couldn't explain it, but it didn't seem worth fighting over anymore. percy stepped back from luke and let him leave.

after school, percy invited silena over. "You were the first girl I ever truly liked, but I didn't realize until you started dating Charlie. But, over time...that feeling faded away. And, I guess, I'm trying to say...I miss you. But not in a romantic qay, just as a best friend." "Well, duh! I miss my best friend too, Perc. Obviously, I'm not a big fan of your little miss perfect, but I like how she stood up for you. It takes a lot for girls to stand up in that way, especially since that video could wreck a future scholarship for her. maybe you should tell her you miss her" "What if it isn't as real to her as it is to me?"

percy and silena sat in silence for a while before tyson came downstairs with a cookie jar. it was the one percy tried to throw away- the one full of annabeth's notes to him. percy spent the next twenty minutes reading all the letters before he made up his mind.

percy got in his mom's car, drove all the way to school, and rushed across the field. annabeth, fresh off practice, stood in the middle, watching percy come to her. "I drove here." "Really?" "Yep. Okay, bye now." "Wait, Percy, wait. what's in your hand?" percy turned to leave, but annabeth grabbed his wrist. "Read me the letter, Percy."

percy opened the letter and closed it almost immediately, looking into annabeth's eyes instead. "I need you to know that I like you, Annabeth Chase, and not in a fake way." percy held his breath and got ready to hear bad news. instead, annabeth said, "Well, I'm in love with you, Seaweed Brain. Now, are you going to break my heart, or are you going to kiss me?"

"I'm never letting go of you again, you know that, Wise Girl?" "I know."

they kissed, and percy couldn't help but be happy that the letters had gotten out. after all, he knew that him and annabeth probably wouldn't be together without them.

[randomoranges]

i like how past me was just like HEY HERES A BIG THING HAPPENING and then like following part is like and now onto the next thing

So Totally OP!

Part 27

 “Alright then, James you’re my new janitor and Taro, please remove your wig.”

 -

I gladly complied with her orders. I removed my long wig and my jet black hair cascaded down to my shoulders. I watched as James’ and Luke’s jaws fell to the floor in shock. I was quite a site wasn’t I?

 “YOU’RE A GUY?!” James yelled. The poor man, he must have just realized the confession he had given me and that kiss that came with it.

 “Last time I checked I was.” I replied softly.

 “And you didn’t say anything?” Luke asked.

 “I kept hinting at it and when I tried to tell you, you either wouldn’t listen or I was told otherwise.” So long Nathalie!

 “Well then, I expect to see the two of you at work tomorrow, good night.” We followed the director out leaving the two flabbergasted twins alone. I was free at last!

 The next morning, the moment I opened the door I saw chaos everywhere. For a moment I thought I was at the zoo. It was unbelievable. James was running after Kimberly, while Luke was yelling at some cameraman. Jake was chasing after both twins and my sister was standing next to the director looking equally shocked.

 “What’s going on?” I asked them.

 “All hell broke lose.” The director murmured. She looked really tired and it removed from her beauty.

 The door behind me opened once more and when they saw who it was they froze. I slowly turned around and saw a big tall man with a small pinch wearing some important business suit. He carried a heavy briefcase and he hid his eyes behind black tinted glasses. Clearly not very attractive and quite frightening.

 “Hmm, interesting. I see you have everything under control.” He said, clearly judging the director. Who was he to speak to the director this way? He had no style or class.

 “Mr. Hills, what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know that you were planning on doing another evaluation. Isn’t this the fifth one this year?” Was he an inspector? Why would they come back here again and again? Why was there an inspector?

 “The chief sent me here. He had a new evaluation grid to see just how competent you really are. You know what we say don’t you?” She rolled her eyes at him and Mr. Hills didn’t seem amused. This man was like stone.

 “So what do they want me to do now? Cower in fear? I could really care less about your latest evaluation. You’re currently making me waste valuable time, Mr. Hills. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” She turned on her heels and she headed for the set. Thank goodness we had shot all the outside scenes before. Something didn’t seem right about this guy.

 The first half of the day went by strangely. The director seemed under pressure and she had asked us to behave and not pass any negative comments about her or OP. I had no idea what was going on so I did what I was told. However, that didn’t stop Mr. Hills from frowning and taking down several pages worth of notes. Sometimes the director would glance nervously in his direction and drift off in what she was saying. She no longer seemed like the confident young woman I knew she was. She resembled a small frightened child.

 Jake seemed to have something against this man since he would glare at him whenever he would get the chance. I decided to ask him, in order to get to the bottom of this.

 “He’s the director’s worst enemy.” Jake told me. That did not help me. The make-up director sighed and explained further.

 “His boss and company are the ones that have been trying to get OP and the director kicked out from the industry for the past year and a half just because she’s younger.” Why I could have punched him in the face to make sure that his face was even more crippled! How dared he?!

PREVIOUS: XXVI CURRENT: XXVII NEXT: XXVIII

[thesaltysocialworker]

Waking up in Vegas

Waking up in Vegas (Part 1 of 2)

Synopsis: You got a second chance at a career that you’d grown to love after your own failed attempts at fame; shadowing Luke Windsor as you learn the ropes of becoming an agent. But a trip to Las Vegas with Luke’s most famous client may ruin your dream career before it even gets off the ground. 

Warnings: Sex.

What was that all about?” Tom asked, his voice a bit quieter than normal, but also more forced. “I think Captain America was trying to get into my knickers.” 

“Behind every great man, there’s an even better woman.”

             You smiled gently as you set a tea tray on the edge of Luke Windsor’s desk. “I’m just glad to have you back from your world tour out in the wilds, running this place without you was absolutely insane.” You moved across the wood floor of the office and sat in the chair in front of the desk. You felt lucky to be there, training under one of the most successful agents and talent managers in the United Kingdom. While you may have dreamed of stardom for yourself in your younger years, now you wanted some stability and you’d become more practical as you’d aged. You’d scratched, crawled and fought to get where you were, and had hopes that someday you’d be the one setting behind the desk and not just a junior agent.

             “Premiere tours are insane and glorious all at the same time. However, my partner is not really pleased with me.” Luke refused to look at you as he scanned his e-mails. One of the things he hated and appreciated about you was your perceptiveness. You were hyper aware of the emotions of the people around you, of the very atmosphere in the room. Some may call you a control freak. “Trouble in paradise?” You asked, knowing that he was newly married and it’d taken him a lot to find his husband who would tolerate his crazy schedule, his travelling and his workaholic nature. “He threatened to go to his mother’s if I don’t cancel the Comic-con trip in Las Vegas. But it’s a new event, and I don’t dare let Tom go alone to new events. I need to get the lay of the land first.”

             You were practically bouncing in your seat, your hand gripping the arm of the chair tightly. You could see where Luke was trying to point you. “Stay home. I’ll go.” You shrugged like it was no big-deal. But it was a huge deal. It was a new event, it’d give you a chance to hob-knob with other agents and up-and-coming stars.  It’d be the jump-start you needed to fly solo someday! “Y/n, it’s your birthday. I can’t ask you to give up your birthday to escort Tom around Comic-Con Las Vegas. I know you have some level of disdain for that kind of stuff.” Luke laughed. “It’s not disdain! I’m just not huge into comic books. I’m more of a non-fiction sort of gal. Besides, I need to be able to represent anyone, right? Regardless of their work. Give me a chance, Luke. You won’t regret it. It could save your marriage.”

             Luke tapped his fingers on the desk, finally turning his attention away from the e-mails and back to you. “Alright, you’ve asked for it and you’ve certainly earned it. Get your passport ready and pack your bags, I’ll let Tom know you’re going with. He’ll be thrilled.” You wanted to secretly dance around Luke’s office to celebrate your victory, but you stopped when you heard the ‘he’ll be thrilled’ part. “What?” You asked, truly confused. You’d met Tom a handful of times at the office and followed he and Luke to a few different events as a job shadow. He’d been kind, taken note of the fact that you preferred blueberry muffins and chai-tea at the breakfast bar every morning (religiously) at a hotel and had brought you one pretty consistently when visiting the office. “He likes you. He thinks you have talent.” Luke shrugged.

             “Is he looking for a new agent?” You grinned, moving to your desk in the reception area. “Saucy wench.” Luke muttered, a soft laughter emitting from him as he sipped at his tea. When you made it to your desk and no one was looking until you did that dance, your heels clomping on the wood floor as you completed a spin and landed daintily on the points of your toes. “Did you faint from shock?” Luke called out to you, as you slid into your seat behind the computer. “Nope, just slipped on the wood floor. Heels, you know.” You replied, and Luke snorted sarcastically. “-Said the woman who danced ballet her whole life.”

             The morning finally arrived. You hadn’t slept that night whether out of excitement or terror, you weren’t sure. You’d checked the weather in Las Vegas constantly off and on, shuffled out of bed and pulled things in and out of your suitcase based on the changes and what you assumed was business appropriate. The car arrived at your flat, and as soon as you stepped out of the flat and into the dreary English rain, the backseat door opened and Tom stepped out. “Morning, Y/n. Let me help you with your bags.” He was beaming, and it was way too damn early to be that happy. “It’s alright, Tom. I’ve got it.” It felt awkward that he—the star of the show—was offering you assistance with your bags. “It looks heavy, love. Let me get it. It’s raining, hop in.” He added, taking your bag and shoving it in the trunk. You didn’t fight him, and slid into the back seat. Ironically, you found the familiar Starbucks chai-tea and blueberry muffin in what had become your assigned seat.

             Tom slid in beside you. “You got up and got breakfast at 4am. You’re amazing.” You grinned at the man beside you. “If a muffin is all it takes to please you, what would dinner in Vegas earn me?” His blue eyes danced with amusement, he sipped at his coffee. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Hiddleston, that despite my modest taste in beverages and baked goods I am not a cheap date.” You teased. Tom laughed, the familiar ‘eh-eh-eh’ echoing through the car. He brought his hand behind his head, toying with the russet colored curls on his head. “You drive a hard bargain, y/n. I’ll have to think of something spectacular then. Luke told me to make sure you have some fun and don’t work the whole time we’re in Las Vegas.”

             “Have you ever been to Vegas?” You asked, trying to change the line of conversation because you fully intended to work this whole trip. “Never. I am looking forward to it though. I’ve heard it’s unlike anywhere else in the world.” As the airport came into view, you pulled the itinerary out of your work bag. “Luke made sure Comic-Con Las Vegas spare no expense for us on their maiden voyage. We’re staying at the Four Seasons there. I had no idea there was even a Four Seasons there.” You scanned the rest of the reservation as you waited to offload behind the numerous other cars. What you expected to see was two rooms, what you read was a suite. A very expensive suite. You cursed under your breath, and Tom turned to glance at you. “Alright?”

             “I think Luke messed up our reservation. He booked a suite, I can call and change it though.” You tried to show nothing but confidence, but you were quivering inside. A suite with Tom Hiddleston? That was too good to be true. “It’s correct. Luke and I normally get a suite when we travel. It’s just easier than hunting each other down across the hotel.” You could’ve sworn that Luke had a cheaper room when you were following them on a movie premiere tour. But he was the one in charge, and you would do what he asked. “Are you sure you don’t want your privacy?” He shook his head ‘no’. “It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.” Before you could say anything else, the car door opened and the driver handed you both your bags. You moved through hordes of Paparazzi, Tom expertly ignoring them. You were a bit overwhelmed, but tried not to let it show. Luke had always referred to it as running the gauntlet. It certainly felt that way.

             Tom, ever the practical one, had insisted that the two of you fly first class on British Airways, but no private jets. “Despite our adventures together, I feel like I don’t know that much about you.” Tom was making small talk while you waited for take-off. You noticed a few people staring, one or two trying to get pictures with cellphones. “What would you like to know?” The intimacy of the moment wasn’t something you expected, but you didn’t really know what to expect. You’d never done this alone before. You knew Luke and Tom were very close, maybe this was normal in a relationship with one’s manager. “You’re not English, where do you hail from?”

             “I was born and raised in New York City. My father was a doctor, and my mother was a dancer for the New York City ballet. He was taken with her when he saw a performance she was in on a date with another woman. He waited for her at the exit of the building and took her on a date, and the rest was history.” Tom smiled. “Sounds like a fairytale.” You sputtered with uncomfortable laughter. “It was for a time. They divorced when I was young. They were both career driven, and that’s probably where I got it from.”

             “Luke said you dance ballet.” The plane had taken off, the two of you were on your way. The questions didn’t stop. “I did. I danced in a few companies in New York, I moved to England to dance in a few national tours. I was never Prima, I broke an ankle before I could make a name for myself. I still do it for fun, but I was somewhat forced to give up the dream of doing it professionally.” You tilted your leg out, showing off the chunky scar across your ankle. Tom’s eyes widened. “That’s some break.”

             “I have a few rods and plates holding it together. I was forced to look for a desk job, Luke needed a secretary. He gave me a chance when my ego was really deflated and I didn’t feel like I was useful anymore. I had to give up my dream. But he taught me his trade, because he could see I was ambitious and willing to learn. I owe him a great deal.” The conversation came much too easily with him, you felt like you were spilling your guts and crossing a line you shouldn’t cross with the movie star. “Luke is the type of person who see’s potential everywhere. He’s able to see talent and kindness in people who don’t always see it in themselves. He’s put me back together a few times when things got difficult.”

             You had always wondered how difficult fame could be. There had been a time when you coveted it above all else; probably not the level of fame that Tom had acquired—but you had fought to become a prima ballerina your whole life. You’d passed up relationships, and milestones to practice to reach that goal. When it was unreachable because of your health, you felt cheated and your life didn’t have a purpose. Luke had given you back that purpose. You had always (rather foolishly, it seemed) assumed that fame made life easier. But in watching people try to take pictures of him doing nothing but sharing a drink in first class with you knew that was fake. He had more resources, but he didn’t have privacy.

             The two of you chatted the rest of the flight off-and-on, rushed through airports for transfer flights, listened to music and watched movies. As time passed, you became more comfortable with each other. You learned about his childhood, about his desire to become an actor even against the advice of his parents. But eventually, in what would’ve been the early hours of the morning in Las Vegas, the plane touched down. You met your security team, who acquired your bags for the two of you and managed to schedule you from paparazzi when all you really wanted to do was sleep. Tom was patient, waving to a few of them half-heartedly before getting into the car.

             The suite was ready for you when you arrived at the Four Seasons in Las Vegas. The place was trendy, yet eloquent in true Four Seasons fashion. You were escorted to your top floor suite by the manager who stuttered nervously in the presence of Tom. You needed a special key card to take the elevator to your floor. The manager walked the two of you around the suite from the kitchenette, to the master bedroom and the small indoor pool. It seemed surreal to you. Tom thanked the manager, and then the two of you were alone. You stood in front of the window, over-looking the beauty of the Vegas strip lit up beneath you. “This is beautiful.” Even in your sleep deprived state, you could appreciate the beauty of this city and the electricity it produced. It reminded you of New York, it never slept.

             “Yes, it is.” Tom stood beside you, and you saw him side-eyeing you from his spot beside you. You wondered for a moment, if in your sleep deprived state, if you had imagined it. There was no way that Tom Hiddleston, movie star, was interested in a broken ballet dancer turned manager. Thankfully, the two of you were able to sleep in as the Con started later in the day. “I’m off to bed, I’m exhausted. See you tomorrow?” You asked, stepping away from the window and towards your room. Tom nodded. “Goodnight, y/n. Sweet dreams.” He smiled, and wrapped you in a hug that pulled you against his long, lean body. It was a tight hug, you dropped your itinerary in the shock of how intimate the embrace felt.

             You stood there, eyeing him stupidly as he retreated to his rooms. Maybe you weren’t imagining this all. But, if you weren’t, could you even act on it anyway? You were sure there was some unwritten code of conduct somewhere. It took you sometime to fall asleep after tossing and turning, and perhaps some fantasizing of the tall, British man in the room across the suite from you.

               Arriving anywhere with Tom always involved a flurry of activity; there was security, the fans always seemed to know his movements. There was screaming and chaos, and the flashing of cameras from paparazzi. This was your first time escorting him to an event solo, and you had completely under-estimated the sheer amount of star power that this new Comic-Con had managed to obtain. There many famous faces there from Marvel, and even other Avengers.

             You awkwardly stood off to the side of the massive room that had become the welcoming area for the celebrities. You lingered with a drink in your hand watching Tom mingle with his ‘friends’ as you thought it’d be strange to hang on his arm like a date. This clearly was not a date. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the handsome man sliding up next to you. “Let me guess, talent agent?” The man asked, and you nearly dropped the martini glass you were holding you all six foot of Chris Evans smiled down at you. “Yes. I’m Y/f/n Y/l/n. I work for Luke Windsor. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Evans.” Naturally, you were a little star struck though you’d never admit it. “You’re here with Tom then.” He tilted his head towards where Tom was laughing with hysterically at something some beautiful blonde movie star had said. You felt jealousy blooming in your chest, and you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t yours and as a professional you should have these feelings about a client.

             “I’m just trying to make a career for myself.” You shrugged, taking a drink of your Martini. You noticed Chris was wearing a Patriots hat, and you began chatting with him about Football. It felt good to talk about American football with someone. He gestured you over to the bar, he got a beer and you refilled your martini as the two of you engaged about the beauty of the East Coast. He was easy to speak with, he didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or less than because you weren’t a movie star. Eventually, the staff showed up and started calling people in for their panels. Chris was one of the first on the list, and you noticed Tom approaching the two of you with his brows drawn together out of curiosity. “I really enjoyed getting to know you, Y/n. If you’re not busy tonight, maybe we could have another drink?” He offered you a napkin, and when you unfolded it, his number was written on the inside.

             “Sure, I uh- can’t really say with my schedule but I’ll try.” You smiled, sliding it into your pocket. Chris winked, disappearing out of the room and leaving you to face a very stunned looking Tom. “What was that all about?” Tom asked, his voice a bit quieter than normal, but also more forced. “I think Captain America was trying to get in my knickers.” You chuckled. Perhaps because of the alcohol you were amused by your own humor, but Tom was not. “And were you planning on meeting him?” You shrugged. “I’m not sure. He seemed nice enough.”

             “You’re supposed to be here working, not flirting with movie stars.” It was a sneer. The words stung you, especially given he had abandoned you to go flirt with movie stars himself. “I am working. It’s called Networking. I am Luke’s assistant, and eventually I’m going to have to have a client base for myself. Don’t tell me how to do my job.” Tom shook his head. “Whoring yourself out for clients isn’t how this industry works.” You set your glass down on the bar with a slam, walking away from Tom before you said or did something unprofessional. Tom knew right away he had crossed the line. He moved after you. “Wait, Y/n! I’m sorry! That was totally uncalled for, I’m an ass-“ You walked towards the restroom, trying to slam the door on him as you stepped into the nicest ladies restroom you’d ever seen. Plush, with couches and perfumes and fancy towels. But you weren’t alone, Tom followed you in there.

             “Are you out of your mind, Tom?! Get out, this is the ladies restroom!” He was pale, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.” You cut him off, moving to stand toe-to-toe with him. “I don’t understand you! You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met one minute bringing me breakfast every morning and then the next minute you’re calling me a whore! My God, you’re so-“ You couldn’t finish, his lips were on yours and you were suddenly pushed up against the sink by his lean body. His hands cupped your waist as his lips moved against yours. You were breathless, goose flesh rising over your body as you relaxed into his arms which had moved to tightly encircle you. Your fingers brushed up his arms, tangling in his russet colored curls. Your brain had slammed to halt, all you could think about was how good he smelled.

             “Jealous. I am so jealous.” Tom finished for you when he released your kiss swollen lips. Your anger turned to passion, when you were no longer breathless you kissed him again. Your whole body went pins and needles, he boosted you up onto the sink, and your legs spread as he stepped between them. His lips moved from yours, across your jaw, down to your neck.  His hands moved to cup your breast under the thin camisole you wore and you moaned at his ministrations. “Tom.” You whispered, and he hummed in response. “You’re going to miss your panel. Luke will kill us both.” He glanced down at his watch and cursed. “Meet me back at our suite? It seems we need to talk.” You nodded, and he helped you slide off the sink and back onto your feet.

             “I don’t have to go out there and fight Chris for your affections, do I?” Tom asked, the two of you sneaking out of the women’s restroom when the coast was clear. “No, I’ve always had more of a thing for Villains, anyway.”

              You waited on the couch in the sitting room of your suite at the Four Seasons, and you watched the sunset over Las Vegas with a Manhattan in hand. It wasn’t the first one you’d made that evening while waiting for Tom to return from the Comic-Con. No one who knew you would’ve assumed you needed liquid courage for anything. But you did for this. Your hands traced over your lips, your eyes closed as you thought about that kiss. Minutes felt like hours, so much had been left unspoken.

               The lights had risen over the Vegas strip by the time Tom returned, you heard the door open behind you and spun around to find him kicking off his shoes. He looked relieved to see you there. “I- was afraid I frightened you enough that you bought a plane ticket back to London without me.” He sat by you on the sofa, an uncomfortable silence falling between you. “When did you start to see me like that?” You finally asked, and Tom sighed as he pulled his hands through his hair in his nervousness, you were hyper aware of his movements. Everything about him seemed to ooze sexuality.

            “You started shadowing Luke shortly before Ragnarok, he invited you on the press tour with us. October 15th, you came downstairs in a dark blue evening gown with Luke when we were getting ready to leave the hotel. You were stunning, you seemed to float when you moved. You made it seem so effortless, if you were scared of your first premiere, I never would’ve guessed it. I spoke to you the first time that night, you blushed and laughed a lot. But I was smitten. I had the urge to find ways to see you, so I would bring you breakfast. I’d remind Luke to invite you to things so you got the ‘experience’. Your intensity for your career made me second guess pursuing you. But I can’t stay away anymore, y/n.”

            His long fingers moved to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your whole body felt like it was on pins and needles, you had butterflies in your stomach. You had never experienced this sensation with any other man. You met his eyes. “If you don’t want me, tell me now. I will let you go on about your career without influence of interference. But if you have the slightest inclination that this could work, please-“ Tom couldn’t finish his sentence, your lips were on his. Your hands gripped the expensive button down he wore and tore it open as the buttons hit the rug beneath the two of you. Tom tangled his hands in your hair, holding your body against his as the two of you tried to devour one another. You had moved across his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist.

            Your hands moved over the lean muscle of his stomach, his chest. Tom moaned into your mouth when your hand moved lower and removed his belt, and pulled down his zipper to palm him through his boxers. You owed a great deal of your courage to your liquid courage, but also the desire that been building in you for hours while you waited for him. The anger that stirred in you when you thought about him flirting with those other women at the convention. Tom lay back on the sofa, allowing you to slide him out of his pants as you tossed them through somewhere in the living area. You worked your way across his chest with your stomach. Then you moved lower, sliding his underwear down his legs and wrapping your tongue around his length. He gasped when you adjusted to the sheer length of him, gradually taking more and more of him into your mouth, moving faster and faster. You reached your hand between your legs, you were already dripping wet.

           His hips moved upwards, and you almost choked on his impressive length. Tom was panting, trying to control himself. “I need you, y/n. I need to be inside you.” He caught you by the waist, bending you over the back of the black leather couch. His fingers toyed with your clit, and you cried out in pleasure. His fingers slid inside of you easily, and you saw the reflection of him licking his fingers in a near-by mirror. “You’re perfect, and you’re mine.” He growled, more animal than man. He pushed himself inside you, one hand on your waist as the other toyed in the ends of your hair and pulled your head back. His thrust were perfect, hitting you ever so perfectly right where you needed him to be.

         “Tom.” You purred out. You feel yourself climbing to your climax as his thrusts increased and his rhythm seemed to break. You knew he was close. “Tom, please!” You begged, catching another glance at the two of you in the mirror. Your lips were kiss swollen, your hair and eyes wild as he pound into you from behind. His sheer strength slid the couch every time he thrust into you. “You’re perfect, Darling. Come for me. Come now!” He reached around to tap your clit in rhythm with his thrust, and you came at the same time. You screamed out his name, not caring who heard you when you did so. Tom settled a moment. You were so tired you struggled to move from the couch where you were hunched over it. Or at least until Tom lifted you into his arms like a bride carrying his groom across the threshold. He carried you to his bed, pulling back the covers before setting you down and allowing you to slide inside them.

        He crawled in, rolling on his side to face you. “Get some sleep, love. We’ll go out and celebrate your birthday later tonight.” He whispered with a soft smile, brushing a few sweaty strands of hair from your face. You were asleep in moments, but you were a light sleeper. When you rolled again, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against his body, burying his face in the crook of your neck and placing a kiss there before falling asleep.

 It was a birthday you were sure you’d never forget.

             The two of you drank, you gambled, you danced the night away at one of the hottest clubs in Las Vegas. Shot after shot, drink after drink; it seemed to never end until the early hours of the morning. The last time you’d been black out drunk was in college, you groaned as you rolled over in Tom’s bed. He was still sleeping peacefully, the blackout curtains in the room were fantastic. You could barely tell it was nearly noon there. You tip-toed over clothes and shoes thrown about in an attempt to make love after all the evening’s activities.

             But then you noticed a sash lying on the floor near the dress you’d chosen that evening. You lifted it the gold, gaudy thing and saw ‘JUST MARRIED’ written across it in silver letters. At first, you wondered if it was something you acquired from a bachelorette party or something of the sort as the two of you had come across numerous different parties that night. But then your phone vibrated. You moved to the night stand, and sitting next to your phone was a silver band dusted with diamonds. That wasn’t something someone would give up like a sash. The events started to flood back into your mind. You searched for Tom’s left hand, he groaned as you lifted it into the dim light of the room and saw a matching silver band. “Oh shit. Oh God, Luke is going to murder me.”

             You had spoken prophecy, your phone lit up and saw the text message from Luke. He’d sent you an article with colorful photos of your drunken evening with Tom. Candid’s of your wedding photos at a little chapel in Vegas. You both were excited, smiling stupidly at pointing at your rings. After nearly hyperventilating, you finally found the courage to look at Luke’s text message. It was simple: What did you two do?!

             Tom yawned, stretching out his arms and spinning around to find you sitting with your arms wrapped around your knees, pushed up against your chest and two shades paler than normal. “What’s wrong, love?” Tom asked, pulling himself into a sitting position. “Tom, Luke is going to kill me.” You practically sobbed. He chuckled, setting a hand on your shoulder. “For sleeping with me? He doesn’t have to know until we’re ready to tell him, love. It’ll be alright.” You shook your head, trying to find the words, they were stuck in your throat. What if he regret the decision? What if he was mad at you for letting him get so sloppy drunk he married his agents assistant. “Tom, we got married last night at the Little White Wedding Chapel. The press got a hold of it.”  

Please consider supporting the starving artist/social worker if you’re able. :)

[liesyousoldme]

What kind of Rx drugs do you think Eddie is on as an adult that he would need to wean off of? I’d just love to hear your take because your analysis on everything else has been fuckin spot on

they’re actually listed in the book! his opening chapter starts with him emptying his medicine cabinet into his bag and after he gets through like four shelves of OTC meds and then you get to his last shelf:

“the bottom shelf is almost deserted, but the stuff which is here means serious business - you could cruise on this stuff, okay. On this stuff you could fly higher than Ben Hanscom’s jet and crash harder than Thurman Munson’s.”

he has Valium, which is a benzodiazepine and helps with anxiety. same drug class as xanax. You can get this prescribed say, before you have to go in for a procedure to keep you from getting freaked out

he has Percodan, which is a combo of aspirin and oxycodone. so. opioid pain medication (not to mention he carries regular aspirin with him everywhere and pops them like candy)

he has Elavil, which is also known as amitryptilene. i actually took this for a while! it’s a tricyclic antidepressant. however, it’s popular to abuse bc in high doses it causes a euphoric and sedating effect so i don’t think our boy eddie is taking one a day

he has Darvon Complex,  which is a narcotic i believe? it’s literally been removed from the market bc it has serious side effects to the heart

and then this guy has a tin full of quaaludes. highly addictive sedative that was popularly abused before being taken off the market. known for being incredibly addicting and having terrible withdrawal symptoms

so we don’t know how often/how much he’s taking but it’s serious drugs he’s abusing. a lot of them he’d probably view as being able to lessen his anxiety. he possibly started out legally and on proper dosages only to increase his tolerance and have to up the doses but it’s never said how he has access to any of them. 

he only has 6 quaaludes which to me that says he doesn’t take them often so i don’t think i’d be worried he’d be addicted to those. however, valium would be an issue. the pain pills would be an issue. possibly the elavil, depending on how often he takes them. 

and on top of the fact that he’s taking these meds, at least when he goes to derry, he drinks. not only should none of these be mixed with alcohol (it usually heightens the effects) but they shouldn’t be mixed with each other. he could legitimately OD mixing these and drinking alcohol. 

getting off these would require going through withdrawal for sure, particularly the pain pills. opioid withdrawal is rough. 

also quick disclaimer i’m not super knowledgeable about prescription drugs so if anything is incorrect let me know!

[whumptasticwednesday]

Insult to Injury ft. Dadneto (Peter Maximoff - X-Men)

Author’s Note: Hey, ya’ll. I’ve been burning the midnight oil to get this fic out on time, AKA 2 consecutive nights of staying up till’ 3 am. I’ve had the idea for a Peter-centric Dadneto whump fic for a decent amount of time, and after receiving a lovely anonymous prompt, I decided to incorporate both my idea and theirs. Here we’ve got Peter after the events of Apocalypse, debilitated, and accidentally giving himself a nasty case of salmonella, before Erik comes to help. I’m pretty proud of this one, so I hope you enjoy it! This fic is unedited, sorry, so please let me know if there’s any glaring issues. For my next fic, I’m shifting away from X-Men for a hot sec so I can write a nice Detroit: Become Human whump fic with our favorite android son, Connor. I’ve been super excited about my plot concept, so I’m ecstatic to start writing it. Anyways, I hope you like this one, I worked very hard on it, and I hope you’re all excited for the DBH fic coming soon!

-Ash

Word Count: 6299

Warning: Emeto and decently graphic descriptions of physical illness

Setting: Post-Apocalypse/Pre-Dark Phoenix

If there's anything Peter Maximoff knew in this moment, it was that not being able to do the one thing your body was genetically enhanced to do, sucked. A lot.

It had been only a few days since the X-Mansion had been rebuilt and things all fell back into this synonymous routine as if the entire building hadn't exploded a short while ago. In Peter's opinion, it was all kind of creepy how easy it seemed for these kids to all just go back to learning when their home and school just got eviscerated in a hellfire, but he didn't think much of it.

All he could think about in this moment, was how immensely bored he was. Peter always had something going on with him; he was either thinking about his impending dad-related issues, plotting a prank, or deciding to go off and steal an entire Walmart's worth of Twinkies in the blink of an eye, there was always something.

Yet now, the rest of the X-Men were off with Charles helping cover up heat from the international press by cleaning up all the damage and destruction in Cairo and showing what Charles had dubbed: "diplomacy", which was too huge of a word for Peter to ever use in an everyday sentence; too many letters, and Peter was left back at the mansion since he really couldn't use his powers effectively at the moment, so it would be pretty useless for him to be tagging along.

Peter normally wouldn't have given a damn, maybe even excited at the prospect of being able to rig his friends' rooms with elaborate traps with Jello and staplers or something of the sorts while they weren't around, yet now, when faced with inescapable boredom that followed him wherever his broken leg did (everywhere), he was dying to have anything to do. As the team was suiting up to get on the jet to go back to Cairo, Peter had pathetically hobbled down to the X-Men bunker on his crutches, begging to be taken with. But they'd simply gassed up the plane and flew off, leaving Peter alone, and oh so very bored.

Which brings us to Peter now, attempting to create an omelette with 6 different cheeses, 8 different and poorly-diced peppers, a heaping assortment of minced tomatoes, and a sprinkling of those off-brand fruit snacks that are always better than the on-brand ones for some reason. It wouldn't be a Peter breakfast without some form of sweet, and in his eyes, it stuck to the healthy-ish theme. It had fruit in the name for a reason, didn't it?

The kid always had a massive appetite, and everyone that knew Peter knew this as well. You'd be hard pressed to find him without some snack or form of sustenance in his hand, scarfing it down like there was no tomorrow. It was all a byproduct of his enhanced metabolism. All that energy to run had to come from somewhere, didn't it? Little did he know, this super stomach of his would come to kick him in the ass in a few short hours. But for now, the silver-haired man child of a mutant was limping around the mansion's kitchen making a very... exotic breakfast for dinner meal.

Peter plopped the strange looking (decently gooey) excuse for an omelette into a large plate with some Twinkies and orange juice on the side. As he devoured his dinner, Peter thought anxiously about Erik. It had taken him 10 years to connect the dots, work up the courage, and even think of confronting the man to tell him of his true parentage, yet wimped out at the last minute, leaving the ambiguous: "I'm here for my family too." Peter groaned audibly to himself as his mind once again replayed the events he'd already replayed a million times before. It was embarrassing as all hell. Luckily, nobody that did know told Erik anything, which Peter was very grateful for.

Imagine learning about a woman you left 2 and a half decades ago actually birthing a son you had no idea existed and just now learned of... but not from him, despite several encounters beforehand where he had ample opportunities to do so. It'd make Peter feel like even more of a loser than a 27 year old who still lived in his mother's basement. But, to be fair, Peter was no longer a grown man living with his mom, he was a grown man living in a school where he was many years past the oldest enrolled student, while not teaching a single class; it was a step up from the basement, trust me.

Once finished with his omelette, Peter quickly washed his dishes and made his trek up the small flight of stairs to reach his room on the second floor. Over the past few days, Peter had learned just how high a set of stairs could be, especially when you end up falling down them on several attempts to slide down the handrail (and failing miserably while being laughed at by dozens of impressionable pre-teen children.) What a loser.

After reaching his room, particularly winded from this dinner excursion, Peter was grateful to see that he hadn't unplugged his television from the wall after his embarrassing fall in an attempt to get to the bathroom by himself, without his crutches, or the lights on. A simple recipe for disaster in nearly all circumstances, yet for some reason, the universe held pity for Peter and his debilitated state, and decided to not make his day any worse than it already was.

Peter ultimately decided to entertain himself with a good night-long play session of Pac-Man on his Atari 2600, also still miraculously undamaged from last night's fall. He booted up the inferior version of the game (seriously though, he'd have to get Kurt to help him teleport his arcade cabinet from his basement to the school, playing this one was getting a bit tiring on the eyes.) It sufficed, he thought as the TV harshly flashed on.

Now normally, Peter would have been up all night with his video games and rock music blaring in the background, yet tonight, something (besides his immobile leg) felt really off. Each distinct 'WOMP' from the console as the yellow circle man consumed the dashes and dots felt like a sledgehammer into Peter's eardrums, leaving a resonating ache at the base of his skull. He didn't think much of it and brushed it off, simply turning down his music a notch and backing away from the TV a few inches.

The next confusing sign that something wasn't quite right was the disconcerting shivers wracking his body. A chilly breeze seemed to sweep the room as if the AC was on full blast with the windows open on a November midnight, yet it was July and all the windows were closed and when he went to check if his AC unit was acting up, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That's whack, Peter thought to himself as he plopped onto his bed, Atari abandoned on the rugged floor.

He didn't know how long he spent staring at the unmoving chandelier hanging lamely from the ceiling, but it felt as if seconds later, the room was not only freezing, but spinning, and suffocating. Everything felt way too close. Peter could feel every fiber of his shirt rubbing against his jacket, the itchy inside of his cast pressing up against the entirety of his right leg, and the presence of his goggles resting on his neck, now seeming like a noose closing in on his throat. He hastily tore off the eyewear and tossed them on his nightstand before deciding to shed his jacket and weakly throwing it across the room. Another move he regretted.

Without the jacket to keep his arms warm, the newfound seemingly frosty atmosphere felt like a icy flurry against his skin. In spite of his mind's confused wishes, Peter ripped the heavy blanket off the end of the bed and closed it around himself like a caterpillar ready to emerge as a butterfly the next time it saw the daylight. Peter sure as hell didn't feel like a caterpillar, but if the feeling of metamorphosis was a growing sense of intense nausea and cramping in the stomach, then hell yeah, he was crushing this butterfly business.

Fuck, what's wrong with me?! He thought to himself as he rolled onto his side. Peter rubbed at his eyes, hoping to clear the dizziness, yet only further irritating them. God damnit, he sighed internally as his face scrunched up in discomfort, releasing one of his hand's hold on the blanket to cradle his aching stomach.

"Is this karma for all that shit I stole when I was younger? That's just mean, man," Peter rasped to nobody in particular. He thought about it more though and responded to his own question, "Then again, I think that's pretty fair. Haha...Shit, man. Never thought I'd say this, but I think... I think I need help."

The sledgehammer-like headache was pounding with every bass drum beat lightly emanating from the sound system Peter hadn't turned off, another move he regretted. He couldn't decide if the pros outweighed the cons: hobbling through the dark to possibly remedy a source of his suffering, but relinquishing his hold on the only thing keeping him from feeling like freezing. Peter played it safe, much to his cranium's dismay.

Peter stared off towards the wall at nothing in particular as he tried oh so hard to draw his mind's focus from how terrible he felt to literally anything else. It wasn't working out so well. And so, Peter laid there, blanket tossed over himself, single leg drawn up to his chest, shivering like a leaf in a rainstorm, as nauseous as a toddler who just rode their first roller coaster, feeling like he was about to cry, and alone. What a miserable way to spend the night.

------

If there's anything Erik Lehnsherr knew in this moment, it was that he was beyond irritated that Charles wasn't at the mansion to run his own school. Despite leaving the school once he'd helped rebuild it to try and seek solitude to wrap his mind around his place in the world and everything that'd happened to him, Erik was back at the mansion once again. He was ready to lay down the foundations for his new mutant hideaway, Genosha, and needed Charles's connections to the government to help smooth over his charges and get clearance to have his isolated society where he might truly find happiness and solace. The universe had spoken, and he obviously wasn't cut out to be a nuclear family kind of guy.

Unbeknownst to him, Erik had once again meandered into a setting with his unrealized son. Also unbeknownst to him, that son was currently cooped up alone in his room, feeling like death.

Erik uncomfortably paced around the mansion, checking Charles's office, the X-Men bunker, and all the other places he might have been, yet the telepath was nowhere to be found. Erik sighed, he knew coming this late was a bargain, one, it turns out, he'd come to lose. The school itself was eerily quiet. It was if the entire mansion was empty or something. Peaceful, yet unsettling for a man who knew nothing but chaos.

Erik was about to borrow a book someone had abandoned in the foyer when he heard the muffled melodies of American rock music echoing from the upstairs floor. It must be that problematic Peter child, Erik thought to himself. From what he told himself was a civil duty to the rest of the sleeping kids in the school (but was actually his own way to cope with his curiosity) Erik decided to check up on the snarky young man to ask if he'd turn down the tunes.

As he approached the door, Erik was bracing himself for something extremely untamed. Perhaps a messy, greasy slophole of a living area, or maybe a drunk and uncontrollably obnoxious man dancing to his music in the nude. You never really knew with Peter, and Erik had come to expect the strangest out of the boy from the few genuine interactions they've had.

Erik gently tapped his knuckles against the door, waiting patiently for a 'come in', or something along the lines of those words, yet it never came. Raising a questioning yet not too surprised eyebrow, Erik knocked again, using slightly harder bangs, not wishing to make a ruckus and wake anyone else in the hallway up. Again, nothing. Although it could have simply boiled down to Peter not hearing him from his loud and abhorrent music, Erik was growing slightly irritated with the lack of a response. So with his last reserves of patience, he knocked one final time, once again listening for a signal or cue to enter. He was met with nothing yet again.

Wondering for the worst and fully expecting to meet a blackout drunk Peter when he opened the door, Erik tentatively jiggled the doorknob, which just so happened to be unlocked, and stepped inside. Thankfully, he was not met with a naked dancing or woefully drunk mutant speedster, but most would probably argue that what he was met with was quite worse. And that being a rancid stench of sick and sour nastiness lingering in the air, a poorly plopped pile of blankets draped over the culprit of the odor, and the culprit himself lying pale and flushed on the floor beside his bed, covered in his own vomit.

Erik's nose crinkled up from being met by the strongly nauseating smell of the room, reaching for the light switch on the wall to aid the sad little table lamp and glow of the TV in illuminating the room. Now he truly saw the pity-worthy situation for what it was. Peter laid in a heap on the ground next to his bed; he'd clearly trying to make it to the en suite bathroom just a few feet away. However, with his dizzy mind and immobile leg, he didn't make it very far and ended up expelling his dinner in a much less... dignified location (if you could consider a toilet bowl a very dignified location), that undignified location being all over his lap and onto his faded Pink Floyd t-shirt.

Not knowing how to really handle the situation, Erik called out a soft, "Peter?" hoping to elicit a response. Yet, just like at the door, he was met with nothing. As he approached the boy, thoughts of anxiety and panic circled through his mind. What would he say to him when he woke up? Would he be uncomfortable with Erik of all people coming to help? Would he be confused? Would he not care? He felt undeniably and inexplicably awkward. Erik shook the thoughts from his conscious as he knelt down to try and meet Peter's face.

"Peter?" he asked again. Erik tentatively reached over to tap the boy's face, which was contorted in a pinched expression of discomfort, marred further by the vomit drying in a trail down his chin.

Once Erik's hand made contact with Peter's cheek, he wanted to retract it. From the split second interaction, Erik had felt the clammy, sweaty, and scorching hot skin and was growing concerned. The slight physical prodding finally made Peter respond.

"Mom?" he asked groggily, voice cracking, "I'll put my dishes in the sink in a minute... I'm tired..."

Erik let out a harsh sigh, bending his neck in an attempt to make eye contact with the boy.

"Peter, I'm not you-" Erik was cut off.

"Yeah yeah... I'm not your maid. I know, Ma. Just... give me five."

"Peter." Erik stated bluntly yet with a hint of unease, unsure if Peter was delirious or just messing with him, "look at me, please."

Peter cracked open his eyes and blearily met Erik's stoic and collected face. He blinked a few times, slowly and deliberately, calculating who was kneeling in front of him, before letting out a weak and wheezy chuckle, "hey there, refrigerator ornament. Wassup?"

Erik rolled his eyes, responding with, "I came to ask you to turn down your atrocious music so you won't wake any of the other children who are trying to sleep. When I came in here, you were passed out on the floor. Would you like to explain to me what happened?"

"Nah... it isn't all too interesting"

"Peter, can you please act like an adult for 2 minutes? Please?"

"Oh man, the Nazi-hunting, president-killing, horseman of the Apocalypse is bustin' out the PLEASES. Look out, world, Lord of the Vacation Souvenirs has a new tactic... MANNERS!"

Peter burst out laughing at his own adolescent joke, ending in a wheezy struggle to catch his own breath. Erik couldn't tell if he was just screwing with him or genuinely needed help. This behavior seemed pretty normal for the immature mutant.

"Look, Peter, I really just need to know if you're okay. Can you answer that simple question, please?"

"Man, your tactics are workin' like a charm. I guess I'll tel-" Peter was cut off by a repulsing gag, hunching over and expelling his stomach's contents... again, this time, however, onto Erik's shirt, quickly travelling in a sad trail down onto his freshly-ironed pants. Peter's bloodshot eyes went side with embarrassment as he quickly transitioned his gaze to the floor.

Erik's face was caught frozen still as his mind caught up with what had just happened. As repulsed as he was, it wasn't like he hadn't seen worse. But that still didn't make the fact that he was just puked on any less disgusting. After audibly exhaling through his nose, Erik once again focused on the miserable man child in front of him, who was now anxiously tapping his fingernails on the hard plaster of his cast, deliberately trying to avoid eye contact.

God damnit, Peter, He thought to himself as he continued tapping, it's bad enough leaving him with a painfully ambiguous response during a battle to save all of humanity, ultimately ruining a perfectly good chance to fess up, but now look what you've done. You fucking threw up on him. Peter felt himself growing smaller as his subconscious shamed him for his uncontrollable bout of illness. It was stupid and ultimately all in his head, but it didn't make him feel any less shit about his situation.

After taking the few quiet seconds, Erik stood up, and whether it was out of pity or some subconscious moral quest, grabbed Peter by the armpits and dragged him to the bathroom.

"W-what the?" Peter asked, confused by the harsh white light of the bathroom and the sudden shift in scenery.

"Well I'm not going to let you sit in your own disgusting clothes. I have standards, you know. Can you undress yourself? I'll get us both some clean clothes."

Peter grunted in response. It meant: yeah, I think I can take off my own clothes, bro... once the room stops spinning. Erik, however, had already up and left, stripping off his own soiled shirt and rifling through Peter's dresser drawers, and taking the opportunity to flick off the television and silence the music that had been awkwardly filling the room's background space up until now.

Peter didn't have much variety in his clothing, dark jeans and band logo t-shirts were most of his dresser's arsenal. Not wishing to be clad in a Metallica shirt for the rest of the night, he dug a bit further into the seemingly endless assortment of shirts till he found a plain white short sleeve, sighing in relief. He grabbed a random shirt from the top of the assortment which just so happened to have the Journey logo on it, and set off to find new pants for the boy.

Back in the bathroom, Peter was still laying slumped against the bathtub, shivering. Everything around him had seemingly slowed to a halt, not unlike when he was running past the speed of sound, but this time deceleration just felt... wrong.

The crashing rhythm of the rock music had come to a halt, yet it didn't cease the incessant throbbing ache in his head, as if the bass riffs and the harsh taps of the snare were on a permanent loop with earbuds permanently glued to his ears. He was trying his best to prevent himself from groaning or whining as to not sound like even more of a child in front of Erik, but honestly, he didn't want his nonexistent father right now, he wanted his mom.

Peter was snapped from his self loathing by Erik's footfalls growing progressively louder as he approached him. Erik had thrown on a pair of track pants and a random white shirt. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and another shirt for Peter so he could be free of his sweat-slick and vomit-covered clothes.

"Hey, you don't get to keep those. I like those pants," Peter stated sarcastically, still trying to put up a front, although he was unsure why. He'd needed help, it was painfully obvious, so why was he still pushing his father away? Resentment? Anger? Pride? No... fear.

"Arms up," Erik instructed, preparing to take Peter's shirt off for him.

"Yo, you know I'm not a toddler, right? I can take off my own god damn shirt."

"You sure don't act like you're a day older than one, and I don't wanna risk you accidentally suffocating getting stuck in your own clothing so... arms up."

Peter sighed and did as he was told. Erik swiftly peeled the top off the boy and felt around his back, finding it clammy and warm. As if he'd just went from the tropics to Antarctica, the shirt leaving his skin exposed his skin to a whole new level of cold. The sensation ripped through his spine as his teeth started chattering. Hoping Erik had a brain underneath that skull, Peter was (im)patiently waiting for the man to save him from the frosty winds of his newly installed Arctic bathroom and slip the new shirt over him already. However, much to Peter's dismay, Erik turned on the tub's faucet, soaking a hand towel in cold water before leaning over and placing it on Peter's exposed back.

The second the frigid cloth made contact with his skin, Peter recoiled, back arching backwards, arms frantically bending to try and remove it. Erik sighed, slightly out of pity, and continued holding it down.

"Is this some cruel punishment? What did I do?" Peter pleaded, hoping to distract himself from crying by use of humor.

"You're scorching and sticky and it's just disgusting. I'm cooling you down, so relax," Erik explained. "It'll be a few more seconds, I just needed to get all the sweat off of you."

And as quickly as it had begun, the endeavor was over and Erik was threading Peter's strikingly pale and flimsy arms through the shirt holes. Peter audibly sighed, feeling like he'd just spent an hour in an industrial freezer and was now back into a normal temperature.

Erik's eyes drifted to Peter's legs, immediately noticing a flaw in his plan. How was he going to change Peter's pants with that full leg cast?

"Peter, how do you typically change your pants considering your current... situation?" Erik asked.

"It's pretty simple. I don't," Peter replied bluntly.

"W-what?"

"Well, after I got my leg set a few days ago, I changed into jeans, not wanting to be in flight suit pants for the next week of my life, and I haven't swapped since. It's like, physically impossible."

"So... you've been wearing the same (disgustingly dirty) pants all week?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Hank says I should be grateful that it'll heal in a couple days, most people you'd find passed out on their floor covered in vomit with a full leg cast would have been wearing their nasty pants for weeks."

Erik sighed, tossing Peter's soiled shirt and the sweatpants back into the bedroom before meeting his gaze.

"Alright, Peter, I'm going to set you up in bed now."

"Sounds grea-" Peter was once again, clamping his hand over his mouth, pathetically dragging himself over to the toilet to prevent throwing up all over himself again.

Erik saw his distress and lifted the toilet lid and seat, prompting Peter to start heaving into the sad and dreary porcelain bowl. Each dry or productive heave sent another pulsing wave of pain and violent nausea from his stomach to seemingly every conceivable inch of his body in a viscous cycle of suffering. Erik could do nothing but watch as the silver-haired boy wretched in agony, each heave causing his breath to hitch, caught in his throat, as another bout of sick rushed up past his lips, crashing into the toilet bowl.

Erik wanted to reach over and rub Peter's back or offer a semblance of physical comfort for the anguish he must have been feeling. He'd often do this for his daughter, Nina, whenever she had a stomach bug. Erik reached out his hand, only to quickly retract it, shaking haunting thoughts from his mind. This boy was not his child, and in no way would he ever come close to being Nina. What was he thinking?

Guilt quickly overtook the memories as Peter finished his session of sickness. He sagged limply against the side of the toilet, face still partially hidden by the rim of the bowl. When he looked up at Erik, he looked awful. Beyond awful.

Red-rimmed eyes, clearly there as Peter attempted to stop the obvious tears from spilling over, met cool yet collected ones, the former's being full of pain, not just from this embarrassment or the physical turmoil he'd just endured, but something else. Erik knew those eyes. He knew them because for so long, they were the ones he'd stared at in the mirror, day after day, for years, until he'd found Charles, only to come face to face again with those demonized eyes in the form of an immature mutant puking his guts out on his bathroom floor. They were the eyes of a young man who was lost, feeling alone, hiding a part of themselves they wanted to let go, to set free, so they could truly be happy, yet he couldn't possibly decipher what could be internally destroying the boy.

"I-I'm sorry you had to watch that..." Peter said softly as his head lolled over.

"It's fine," Erik replied with a tone to match that of Peter's.

"I'm pretty sure... that I'm done. For now?" It came out as more of a question, but at this point, Peter wasn't trusting any signal his body was sending him. Every impulse had been smudged and cloudy in his mind, and paired with the seemingly endless headache and the relentless chills racking his body from the fever, Peter was sure that if his mind were a computer hard drive, it would have self destructed out of a deadly virus slowly hacking into the hardware.

But alas, Peter was no computer, and so he was stuck with this mystery illness, cooped up in his room, unable to run, with Erik mother-hecking Lehnsherr. His fever-addled mind was barely functioning at this point, so he didn't register anything but dizzying blurred images swirling around his head and slightly-grumbled voice swimming in his ears as Erik scooped the kid up like a newlywed bride and carried him off to bed.

Peter had never been more grateful to grace the comfort of his duvet, ready to sleep. He halfheartedly grabbed at it in an attempt to cover himself and finally warm up. Erik sighed with pity, grabbing it for him and draping it over his shoulders before moving over to stand by the nightstand and awkwardly watching Peter try and get comfortable.

Despite the obvious fact that his body wanted him to sleep, Peter's mind was racing everywhere except the realm of unconsciousness. Every thought was emphasized ten-fold as it bounced around his head until the only things remaining were his want, heck, his need, to tell Erik the truth, and the hesitant and unsure anxiety lingering in the background of his subconscious that was stopping him from doing just that.

Fevers, though, as Peter was quickly learning, tended to do weird shit to what your brain was really trying to accomplish, often scrambling any message you tried to expel to the point where it may or may not have even been your true intentions. And hell, it was an even bigger gamble if you'd remember any of the dumb shit you'd done or said. It was as if the heat had boiled all the potentially embarrassing memories away, which was at least kinda nice.

With everything happening, Peter thought it best for Erik to just pack up and scoot from the premises, as not to accidentally say or do something stupid that might come back to bite him in the ass later, but Peter wasn't about to pull an asshole move on the man who'd just helped him despite not being obligated to at all.

So, instead of verbally asking, Peter did the next most "mature" thing he could have in his debilitated and helpless situation. He pretended to be asleep in a pathetic hope that Erik would leave on his own. He didn't. Peter ended up looking like he was trying way too hard to be asleep than any real asleep person, and after a few minutes, Erik caught on.

"Peter, I know you're not actually sleeping," Erik said, not putting on any sort of specific emotion.

Peter cracked one red and tired eye open, meeting Erik's gaze yet again. Peter sighed and turned over onto his side, back to the other man, bleary eyes trying to focus on anything that wasn't Erik. Sleep, a seemingly effortless task for most, eluded Peter as he let out an a low whine. This was miserable.

"Hey, Erik?"

"Yes?"

"I umm... never mind..."

"What were you going to say?"

"It's nothing... I just feel stupid since I can't even do the easiest thing on the planet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The question struck Peter like a cold dagger to the heart, it sounded so much like something his mom would say, who was practically the only person he wanted in that moment. Peter didn't like to be weak or expose any of his fears. He preferred to be distant and reserved, to hide all that insecurity with stupid dry humor and sarcasm. His mom and his sisters were really the only ones who he'd truly been open with, and when faced with these new circumstances, finally able to reconnect with the father he never had, he was frozen in place, and after pushing people away and closing himself off for so long, not knowing what to do to reach out and truly face what he needed to.

Completely internally and externally overwhelmed, Peter let his dam of pride burst, letting his emotional flood pour out of his eyes in the form of earnest, choked sobs. He bit his lip and weakly rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to hide his distress.

Erik was taken aback, taking a step towards him, before backpedaling as fast as the initial paternal instinct had seized him. He didn't know what to do. Erik was conflicted, scared of overstepping boundaries, but wholeheartedly wanting to comfort the clearly suffering boy lying in bed in front of him.

And in a flash of instinct, an unspoken, deep-rooted, yet unknown draw towards the silver-haired boy, Erik sat down on the mattress, back meeting Peter's, and leaning over his shoulder to rub his back

Erik's hand was shaky, unsure if it should truly be there. He felt the heat radiating off Peter's skin through his t-shirt. Erik glanced down further to Peter's face, and despite the hands trying (and failing) to cover his eyes, saw it covered in a new sheen of sweat quickly mixing with his tears, pale and pasty with angry crimson patches sitting pretty as pictures on his cheeks and forehead. Everything in that moment accentuated both how awfully awkward Erik and truly terrible Peter felt.

Erik didn't even know if Peter was lucid anymore. He was breaking down into tears, shivering and being comforted by someone who was practically a stranger. Eventually, the sobs dwindled into whimpers and Erik's nerves were starting to taper off himself. The room fell into a weirdly calm silence as the two decided to not say anything. Until Peter's shaky voice cut through the room.

"Y-you know... when I was a dumb little kid, I thought I-I could outrun germs. Look at me now. I can't even cook a f-freakin' omelette without making myself sick... I never needed to cook for myself, it was always my mom, or Hostess cakes."

"..." Erik wanted to say something, anything, but he was unsure what, or if Peter would understand.

"I can't do anything right... life tosses me chances and I just fuck em' all up."

Erik soon realized Peter was no longer talking about his omelette, but something deeper.

"I just wish... you could've d-done this for me when I was still that dumb little kid. I wish for so much to be different. I'd always wanted a d-dad, and when I finally figured out who he was, I learn he'd gone off to kill the president! I-I don't know..."

"W-what?"

"I m-might not be able to outrun germs, but my entire l-life, I've outrun everything. The law, my responsibilities, adulthood... But now, the one time when I finally can't run from anything, out of all of my problems, I gotta face you of all things. N-not the way I thought this would happen..." Peter's words died out as he fell silent.

Erik wasn't sure he'd heard Peter properly. Until something in his mind clicked. Everything he's done up until now: "my mom once knew a guy who could do that..." and "I'm here for my family too..." Oh my god, he thought, I'm... I-I'm Peter's... father? Who else had he been with before his wife... Magda. Oh god.

Erik pulled his hand away from Peter's back. This caused Peter to moan and flip onto his back, staring directly at Erik, eyes cutting straight to his heart like knives.

"W-why'd you stop? It was nice..." Peter admitted shyly.

"I-I need a second, Peter. I'm sorry," Erik sighed as he pushed himself off the mattress.

Peter said nothing as his eyes drifted back to his bedspread. Disappointment lurking behind his bloodshot irises.

Erik walked off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He stared up at himself in the mirror, hands gripped tightly around the basin. This couldn't be happening. Not after Nina, not again. Erik was just... terrified. Terrified of the idea of getting close again. Anyone who's ever been a part of Erik's family... had died. His parents, his wife, his daughter; he didn't want Peter to join the list of people the universe was just deemed to kill. He knew that Peter was far from dying, it was a simple fact that the kid couldn't cook and he'd fed himself something underdone. Yet, it was all happening, it was all too fast, and everything felt so damn scary.

He knew, deep down, that this was the truth. It only made sense that the Magda didn't wanna tell her son that his dad was an internationally targeted terrorist that's murdered dozens of people, and this kid had no reasons to lie about it. God... Erik didn't know how to feel, what he should do, but he did know that had a need to comfort Peter, who'd just confessed a secret he'd been hiding for who knows how long, and was now laying alone, probably feeling abandoned again, after pouring his heart out knowing full well it might be shot down.

Whether it was all intentional was yet to be seen. Again, fevers did weird shit.

Erik let out a low sigh and opened the door, finding Peter curled up on himself as best he could, softly whining, mumbling incoherently to himself. Erik stepped over and sat down on the bed again, the entire mattress dipping from his weight.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I am very happy you told me..." Erik was searching for the right words, "the truth."

" 'r welc'm" Peter mumbled as his puffy eyelids slid over his tired brown eyes.

"Is there anything you need me to do for you right now?"

"J'st... stay please. I-It's embarassin', I know, but I just... my mom used to do it..."

"Alright, Peter. I'm not gonna leave, so just try to sleep, okay?"

Peter didn't need to be told twice as his mind and body worked in harmony, finally allowing Peter to be lulled off to the realm of unconsciousness. And although he knew it wasn't necessary, Erik wished to add to the intimacy of this quiet moment, a type of moment so rare and inconstant in both of their lives, so he pushed himself up against the headboard, laying out flat on the bed, and carded his fingers into Peter's silky silver locks. And out of habit, maybe a sort of tendency he'd developed from doing it with Nina, or an obligation to share what he felt Peter deserved, he began to hum his family lullaby, ever so slowly and softly, drowning out any other thing the world wanted to toss at them. Because in that moment... Erik and Peter had found something they'd both been missing for so long, peacefulness and contentment. And for that short night, it was all they needed.