#Fucking love cheesy Five goddammit

[celerysimpnartz]

Here's a lazy one for you guys 😭

Tap the image for better quality 🤡

[siarlas-does-words]

Toshi x G/N!Reader

A/N: So this woke me up one weekend at some hour which I barely accept when I have to get up for work. It wouldn’t leave me alone until I got up, got on the computer, and then wrote for, I think, the next two hours. I don’t know why it was so insistent. And now it’s been bugging me to post it for the last few months. So here it is.

This is a younger Toshi.

In the span of about a month, Toshi had saved me five times. Of course, I didn’t know it was Toshi then. He was All Might. The Symbol of Peace. The Number 1 hero. It wasn’t my fault of course. Wrong place, wrong time. You know what it’s like. Living in a world where powered heroes and villains are the norm.

I never had one of those celebrity crushes on All Might. Not like most of the other girls in the office. And a few of the guys. All those muscles did nothing for me. And that corny line he always said when arriving on the scene! What was up with that?? Ok, so the first time he saved me might have… well, I may have developed a little crush. I mean, the guy carried me away from the villains in one arm. I’m not light! The second time, he came out with another corny line. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, ma’am,” he said.

“Not a ma’am,” I grumbled. More than a little red that the Number 1 hero would use such a cheesy line on me.

“My apologies,” he said with that irritatingly humongous smile. “What should I call you?”

“It’s y/n. Just y/n.”

“Well, Just y/n, try not to get in the habit of having me save you!” With his signature laugh, he leapt away. 

I stood there staring after him angrily yelling that I wasn’t doing this on purpose.

The third time, he winked at me. That arrogant little shit. Ok, he’s obviously not little, but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! This was getting frustrating.

That night, he turned up at my house. I don’t know how a seven-foot whatever tall muscle-bound idiot can look so small and sheepish, but he did. I was about to yell at him for following me and slam the door in his face. Well, I would have if his hand wasn’t on the door stopping me.

“I uh… I had… my umm…  my assistant do a little research. Um… I-I uh, I just wanted to make sure that you uh, that you were ok,” he said while rubbing his neck.

Was All Might blushing? And stuttering? What happened to all that confidence?

“Uh, yeah. Peachy.”

“I don’t… I mean this isn’t…. Shit… I don’t normally do this! Believe me! It’s just...well… today was the third time and I know this isn’t your fault and I suppose in this city there’s probably other people I’ve saved more than once but I usually don’t notice with all the saving and the villains and the fighting and saving…”

“You said saving already”

He stopped rambling and stared at me. “Huh?”

“You said ‘saving’ twice.”

“Oh… well…”

I had to take pity on this poor idiot. “Would you like to come in?”

Ok, now The Symbol of Peace is just standing, stunned, on my doorstep. I think I might have accidentally short-circuited something in his brain. With a sigh, I reached out for his hand and led him inside. He barely fit. His… what do you call those things?? It’s a fringe, but not a fringe… those two ridiculous bits of hair that stick straight up almost touched the ceiling. Does he use an inordinate amount of gel on them? Why? For what purpose?

As I stared at the not-fringe things, All Might seemed to regain some of his composure. There was a slight tint to his cheeks.

“I apologise for being so forward, y/n. I just wanted to get to know you. Talk to you. Maybe over a coffee?”

Wait, what? Did I hear that right? “Are you asking me on a date?” I asked. Completely in disbelief. Do Pro Heroes date??

“Well, seeing as you invited me into your house, I thought we could just have coffee here and talk, but I’m quite happy to take you on a date. Unfortunately, I don’t think we would be able to get much talking done. I seem to attract a lot of attention.”

Was that a smirk? That bastard is smirking. I’m red, aren’t I?

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

Not knowing what else to say, I went to the kitchen to make our coffees. After checking how he took his, I sat us on my couch. I didn’t think my poor chairs would handle his… size. They were just old wooden ones. They creaked even with just me on them.

We ended up spending hours talking, moving from one topic to the next without even realising it. About our work (his is way more interesting than mine!), hobbies, family, friends, movies, books…. He was so easy to talk to, I hadn’t realised just how late it was.

It wasn’t until I yawned, that All Might stopped mid-sentence to frown and ask what time it was. Taking out my phone, I saw that it was after one in the morning. We’d even missed dinner.

“Goodness! (who says ‘goodness??) I’m so sorry, my dear (wait… what did he just call me??) I didn’t mean to keep you up so late!”

As he got up from the couch, he took my hand to… I guess to help me up? I was still repeating ‘my dear’ in my head.

Walking us to the door, he opened it before turning back to me.

“I’d like to do this again if that’s ok? Work permitting of course”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

He quickly leaned down and kissed my cheek.

He was gone before I could even register it in my brain.

The fourth time, he got me away from the danger first. After planting me a safe distance from the action, he cupped my face with his, quite honestly, huge hand.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said as his thumb gently rubbed my cheek.

“You too,” I said smiling up at him.

“Wait here for me?”

I nodded and he was off. Back into the action.

I’d never actually stuck around and watched any of the heroes take on the villains before. Not like a lot of others.

He was beautiful to watch. Even if he did come out with those ridiculous phrases.

After the villains were defeated and handed over to the police, All Might walked over to me. At least he tried to. Like he said, he attracts a lot of attention. I think I found a new source of entertainment. Watching All Might get flustered. It was adorable really. I can see he loves his fans even as he tried to extricate himself from them. So many wanting an autograph or a photo while he tried so hard not to be rude.

After watching this for about ten minutes, I decided to turn the tables.

Walking over, I maneuvered my way through the throng of people and positioned myself in front of All Might, facing everyone else.

“Ok, everyone. All Might needs a break after that fight. He’s very appreciative of all your support, thank you.”

I grabbed his hand and led him over to a cafe I’d noticed when I was waiting.

Thankfully his fans were respectful and let us through. I did notice a few holding their phones toward us, taking photos I presume,

Taking in the look of relief on his face, I remarked, “Looks like it was my turn to save you.”

He let out a booming laugh, “Yes, I suppose it was”

After a coffee, he offered to take me home. Let me tell you, his way of travelling is freaking terrifying! He basically leaps, propelling himself to afford a sort of temporary flight. As I clung to him for dear life, my face buried in his chest, I could feel the rumble of his laugh. It was a comforting feeling. So much so that I could almost forget that we were quite a way off the ground. Almost.

Back on my couch, tea in hand, we were talking about the recent fight before moving on to other subjects. After some time of this, he paused and reached out to move some of my hair back behind my ear. This guy was going to be the death of me. I may or may not be a little touch-starved and all these little gestures were slowly killing me.

“I’d like to show you something. I like you, y/n and I think if I want to keep seeing you, I think you should know.”

I’m pretty sure I just stared at him with my mouth open. All Might wants to keep seeing me? All Might likes me?? Next thing I knew, steam was coming off of him. “All Might! Are you…”

In the blink of an eye, he changed. Still tall, , still built, but nowhere near as bulky as All Might… I mean, himself…. Other self?

“What the fuck??”

“This is me. What I truly am. All Might is my powered-up form.”

“So does this form have a name?”

He chuckled. I was really learning to like his laughs. “My name is Yagi Toshinori. Most just call me Toshi.”

“Toshi, huh. I could get used to that.”

And then he kissed me. I may have let a little moan out. He was so warm and soft. I could feel his smile. Pulling away from him, I slapped him on the arm. Holy geezus that’s some hard muscle there.

“Stop that!”

“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to… I got ca…”

“Not the kiss you idiot. I felt that smirk!”

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?” He had the biggest grin on his face.

Yup, I was definitely red.

We ended up ordering home delivery and cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

Semi-consciousness came with the morning light. I felt warm and fuzzy and had a grin on my face as I snuggled into the blankets. Remembering what happened last night, I opened my eyes to find myself in bed and a note on my bedside.

You’re adorable when you sleep.

(0422) 75-3765

Goddammit. Reaching for my phone (which I presume he thoughtfully left next to the note), I saved his number before sending a quick text.

[y/n]: I’m so sorry for falling asleep on you!

Then I added:

[y/n]: Also, not adorable 😛

Grumbling, I got out of bed (still in yesterday’s clothes. Obviously. What a gentleman) and headed for the shower. Hooking up my phone to the speaker, I choose one of my favourite playlists.

While absorbed in whatever random thoughts were running through my head, I heard the message tone interrupt the music. Then another a minute later. Then a third one.

With a sigh, I finished up my shower and checked the messages while drying off.

[T] Very much adorable

[T] It’s not a problem. I liked having someone so pretty in my arms

[T] Dinner again? I can pick you up from work?

Definitely going to be the death of me.

[heyyyharry]

Harry thinks Y/N is his secret Santa

(A Flatmate Christmas Special!)

Word count: 3.3k

This takes place before the flashbacks in the Christmas special in book 2 :)

Merry late Christmas ho ho ho 😂

.

“Why are you guys doing Secret Santa a whole week before Christmas?”

“Most of us will go home for Christmas so we want to do it early,” Harry whispered back to Y/N so everyone at this long table couldn’t hear them. “Fyi, you’re looking extremely nervous. Relax, they won’t bite.”

Despite what he’d just said, Harry knew it wasn’t easy for her to sit there with his friends and have Layla give her the kind of look that he would only see in his nightmares.

“Yes, Layla?” Louis said once he'd finished explaining the rules.

Layla lowered her hand, still glaring at poor Y/N. “What is Harry’s girlfriend doing here?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Harry blurted, making Layla scoff.

“Then she has more reasons to not be here.”

“She’s here because I want her here. Please shut up.”

Everyone was shocked by what Harry had just said. Even Harry himself could not believe he would live to say that to Layla. His mouth clamped shut as he thought his life would end right there at that table, but Layla was too appalled to even say a word let alone hurt him. Well, at least Y/N seemed proud of him. He felt like a hero.

“The more the merrier!” Niall exclaimed while rubbing Layla’s back to calm her down. “Why don’t we get to my favourite part. Lou?”

“Oh, yes!” Louis chuckled nervously as he turned around and pulled a Santa hat out of his bag. “So now, I will give the hat to each of you. There are eight pieces of paper, each with one of our names. You will close your eyes and draw a name, if it’s yours, take another one and put your name back into the hat. Got it?”

“He’s talking to you, dumbass.” Layla shot Y/N a glare and the poor girl hurriedly nodded her head.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s a dick,” Harry said, making her smile. She seemed less nervous than before, which also made him less nervous.

Louis told Y/N to go first and handed the hat to her. Harry studied Y/N's expression as she read the name on the piece of paper before putting it into her pocket. She seemed indifferent so it couldn’t be him, right? Or maybe she was playing cool so nobody would know.

“Harry!”

Harry blinked fast. Everyone was staring at him.

“It’s your turn," Y/N said, giving him the hat.

He could hear Layla curse him under her breath for taking so much time but he decided to ignore her and closed his eyes to draw a name.

Please be Y/N. Please be Y/N. Please be—

Trix.

His smile dropped as he put his paper away. Giving the hat to Niall, he turned back to look at Y/N, but she was talking to Louis and wasn’t paying attention to him. A part of him was sad that she didn’t seem to care who he got; another part of him was also sad because he didn’t get her.

He didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Everyone would kill to get Trix because Trix got excited about anything. She would love everything you gave her. The hardest person to please would be Layla, but she was someone else’s business, not him. Thank God.

Still, he really wanted Y/N.

“Who did you get?” he asked her when they walked out of the cafe after saying goodbye to their friends.

She seemed chilled so it probably wasn’t Layla. But there were five people left, himself included, who was it?! He really hated second-guessing.

“You know I can’t tell you.”

That was the response he’d expected but not what he wanted to hear.

“Is it Niall?” he tried anyway, thinking he would get the answer based on how she reacted, but Y/N kept that same mischievous smirk on her face and he hated to admit how much it turned him on right now.

“It’d be so funny if you got Layla,” he tried again, adding a nervous laugh, but still no luck for him as her expression stayed the same. “It's not Liam, is it? He already has everything so good luck finding a good present.”

She didn’t even look at him and just kept on walking.

When they stopped at a red light, Harry blurted out, “it’s me, right?”

This time, she glanced up at him.

He tried to look for a clue in that stare she was giving him, and maybe he’d been looking too much into it that he believed he might have got the answer.

“Fine,” she said when the pedestrian light turned green and everyone crossed the road except for them. “I’ll tell you my person if you tell me yours. If I have to break the rule then so do you.”

There’s no way I'm gonna tell her—

“I got Trix.”

Fucking dumbass, said the voice inside his head but he ignored it as always.

“Now, tell me yours,” he said, looking hopeful.

As the corners of her lips turned up, Y/N took a deep breath, tiptoed and leaned in closer. His heart was pounding so hard and fast that he feared it might jump out of his chest and start sprinting across the road. If she said it was him, he might—

“No.”

“What?” His smile dropped in an instant. “But—”

Y/N didn’t wait for him to finish and just walked straight ahead as the light turned green for the second time. He hurriedly chased after her, shouting, “I’m very angry at you!”

But goddammit! How was he still turned on?

.

.

.

“Go to the mall with me.”

“Why?”

Harry sat up on the couch, raising an eyebrow at his flatmate who was already putting on her coat.

He didn’t want to sound crazy but he’d spent the entire day analysing every word she’d said to him to figure out whose name she’d drawn. He could’ve spent all that time trying to come up with the perfect Christmas present for Trix. But sorry Trix, I hope you love snow globes...

“I need your help with the Secret Santa thing since you’re a guy.”

“Ha! Your person is a guy!”

“Congratulations, you eliminated Layla,” Y/N said with the most underwhelming tone as she pointed to the door. “Now can we go?”

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “I hate you.”

If only he could really hate her.

.

.

.

Christmas shopping was the worst! Going to the mall at this time of the year was no different from suicide, but Harry kept telling himself he was doing this for Y/N, and possibly himself too.

It made sense right? If it wasn’t him, she would’ve told him already. It’d be easier for her to find the perfect present for this person with his help since he knew what his friends liked and she barely knew them. Y/N was a smart girl. She knew what she was doing.

“What would you want for Christmas?”

“Me?" He flinched. "Why are you asking me?”

“Because you are a male?”

“Why me specifically?”

“You’re my flatmate! It’d be weird if I asked Niall or Lou or Liam, right?”

He didn’t believe her, but if she knew he’d cracked the code, she might not trust him to go shopping with her anymore. He had to play dumb. It was the only way.

“What are you giving Trix anyway?” she asked as they kept on walking aimlessly ahead.

“A snow globe.”

His answer made her cringe. “That’s lame. Would you get that for me if you were my Secret Santa?”

Of course not! You’re different!

“Why? Do you prefer having me as your Secret Santa?”

“I’m indifferent.” She gave a shrug and he smirked.

“Yeah right.”

As expected, she said nothing and changed the subject, “where the hell are we anyway?! I need a map.”

As Y/N went on and on about how crowded the mall was and she couldn’t see anything but people, Harry stood there, gazing at her.

He had always hated those cheesy scenes in movies where the main character looked at the person he or she loved and everything started moving in slow motion, the noises were cancelled out and the background was blurred as if they were the only two people in the room. But ever since he discovered his feelings for Y/N, he’d been just like one of those lovesick characters.

“Harry?”

The voice pulled him right out of his thoughts. The girl didn’t wait for him to react and just pulled him in for a hug then grabbed his face to shove her tongue into his mouth. He instantly pushed her away, horrified.

“What?!” She scoffed as if she hadn’t just sexually assaulted him. He didn’t even know h—Oh wait.

“Penny?”

“You do remember me,” Penny said with a smirk, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

Of course he remembered her. She was one of the best sex he’d ever had.

No, no, no, no, no! You do not get to be a whore around Y/N! Get your shit together! said the voice inside his head as he frantically looked around. Wait, where’s Y/N?!

“I gotta go, Penny. Nice shoes!”

Penny immediately grabbed his hand. “You can’t kiss and run, love.”

“I didn’t kiss you...you—”

“Shh!” Penny put a finger to his lips, taking a step forward so their lips were almost touching but just barely. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, batting her eyelashes at him. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Can I see you tonight?”

If this was a couple of months ago, he would say yes or even take her back to his place right now. But the new and improved Harry, the person he wanted to become for Y/N, would have to decline.

“I’m sorry but I can’t.”

Surprised and confused, Penny raised an eyebrow. “How about tomorrow night?”

“No, I mean...not...ever,” he said cautiously before removing her hands from his shoulders and taking a step back.

He wasn’t going to explain anything, but then he remembered how insecure Penny could get. After every hook up with him, she would ask him if he thought she was pretty and she would continue asking even though the answer was ‘yes’ every time. He couldn’t hurt her feelings now. If he did that, he didn’t deserve Y/N.

“You’re a great girl,” he said as Penny was about to leave. “But...I’m having a...thing with this girl and...um...I can’t be with anyone else...because of her.”

“A thing? Like...a relationship?”

“No.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t do relationships. It’s just…this thing um...I don’t want to be with anyone else but her.”

“So like a relationship?”

“No!”

“Do you want her to be with anyone else?”

“Of course not!” As he instantly realised how defensive that sounded, he cleared his throat and lowered his voice, “I want to be with her and I want her to be with me. Like...just the two of us. I-I want to be the only person she kisses, the only person who gets to hold her hand, the first thing that comes to her mind when she wakes up, but...I don’t want to be her boyfriend.”

I don’t know why I'm telling you this but it feels good to say it aloud...

“Okay, I get it,” Penny said with a big smile. “Well, good luck with your non-relationship thing. Have a merry Christmas with your non-girlfriend.”

Harry didn’t know how to respond to that so he just waved goodbye and watched Penny disappear in the ocean of shoppers.

That was embarrassing, he thought. But now he had to find his non-girlfriend and get the fuck out of this living hell.

.

.

.

After wandering around on his own for nearly half an hour, Harry finally spotted Y/N in one of the crowded fashion stores. He was about to go in with her but then he saw her grab a blue scarf and wrap it around her neck.

Thinking no one was watching, his flatmate stood in front of a mirror and started smiling at her reflection while posing like she was doing a photoshoot for Vogue. It was so adorably hilarious that he could not let himself interrupt her. He decided to wait outside.

Y/N took off the scarf and stared at it for a long moment before she made up her mind and brought it to the checkout counter.

Harry's heart fluttered as he stood there, grinning like a fool while imagining himself wearing the scarf everywhere he went.

Gosh, she got me a scarf. That’s so thoughtful and intimate. I cannot believe it.

“There you are!”

He almost jumped when he heard her voice, and before he knew it, she was standing in front of him.

“Sorry.” Harry cleared his throat. “I was distracted by a man dressed like an elf.”

“Were you busy shoving your tongue in the elf’s mouth too?”

Shit, she saw the kiss.

“It’s not what it looked like.”

“Whatever. Let’s get out of here before I have a panic attack.”

“Hold on!” He grabbed her wrist, pointing to the bag she was holding. “What’s that? Did you buy something already?”

Y/N tilted her head and squinted her eyes at him. “I’m not showing you the present Harry.”

“Right, right.” He nodded fast but couldn’t stop smiling. “Whatever it is, I’m sure the person who receives it will love it.”

And might or might not be wearing it everywhere he goes, even the shower.

“You’re acting weird,” she said, lifting an eyebrow. “Are we leaving now or do you have another tongue appointment?”

“Okay, I did not kiss that girl. She kissed me.”

“Sure.”

“Stop it, you don’t believe me!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do not ‘uh-huh’ me like that! Y/N!” he raised his voice, pushing his way through the crowd and chasing after her.

.

.

.

“A snow globe?! Oh my god, how did you know I've always wanted one?! You are the best Secret Santa ever!”

Everyone rolled their eyes as Trix hugged Harry while squealing and giggling like she’d just won the lottery. Before Trix could begin with her thank you speech and start praising Harry for being a great friend, Layla raised her hand and demanded to see her present.

Niall wasted no time to put a huge box on the table, causing everyone to ‘wow’ed, and Layla to grip her chest as if her heart was about to burst with happiness.

“This better be LV or Gucci!” she said and quickly unwrapped her present. To her disappointment, it wasn't neither. "It’s...another box.”

Niall stayed silent as Layla started unwrapping the second box.

“And...another box?! Are you fucking kidding me? Don’t you fucking dare film this, Louis!”

“I’m not gonna post it!”

“You got two boxes! That’s so cool!”

“Shut up, Trix!” Layla grumbled before shooting Niall another glare and taking a deep breath. Everyone was impatiently waiting for her to unwrap the third box...and the fourth...and the fifth...and the sixth...and…

“A necklace.”

“Surprise!!!” Niall cheered, but the look on Layla’s face shut him up in an instant.

“Is Niall going to die?” Y/N whispered, making Harry laugh.

“Layla won’t hurt Niall,” he said, and she sighed in relief.

“Good. He can’t die before he opens my present.”

Harry turned paralyzed right as he heard those words. Everyone was laughing at Layla who was hitting Niall with the biggest box even after thanking him for the necklace, but Harry was just sitting there with a blank face.

He didn’t even react when Niall pulled out the scarf from the box Y/N had wrapped herself last night. And he didn’t react when Niall said how much he loved it and that it was the most thoughtful gift he'd ever received.

Harry knew Y/N had never said the scarf was for him. He had come up with all of that himself, but he couldn’t help it. He was mad at her.

“Ugh, I want the mug Layla got you,” she said as they walked home together. London got more crowded at night which was why she was walking so close to him now. If he hadn’t been mad at her, he would’ve been over the moon.

Y/N was ignorant of his attitude and just kept on talking. “Thriller books aren’t for me. But don’t tell Lou, okay? I’m sure this book is great, just not for me.”

He didn’t say a word when she put the book back into her bag. It was then that she realised he’d been quiet for a reason.

“What’s wrong, Harry?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking?” She looked thoughtfully at him, smiling. “Is it about the scarf?”

“No.”

Y/N snorted at his short reply.

What’s so funny?! I’m mad at you, Y/N!

“Did you think it was for you?” she asked.

Yes?!

“No.”

Y/N didn’t say anything else as the two of them continued walking in silence. It was getting colder and Harry didn’t want to be petty but he couldn’t help himself.

“Niall got a new scarf to keep himself warm tonight. How lucky was he?”

He was too mad at her to even feel bad or ashamed then, but he didn’t understand why she was smiling. She must have thought he was a joke. Well, he was. He sounded like such a loser. She would never want to date a loser.

Woah, woah, woah, where did that come from?! No relationship, remember?! What’s wrong with me today?!

“A scarf is like the most basic Christmas gift in my family,” Y/N said as they stopped at a crossroad and he finally turned to look at her, taken aback by what she'd just told him. “When you don’t know what to give someone, buy them a scarf. I didn’t know Niall that well so I got him a scarf. If it was you, I would’ve put in more effort and gotten you something meaningful.”

'If it was you, I would’ve put in more effort...'

'If it was you…'

As his brain kept replaying that same sentence over and over again, he didn’t realise how big he was smiling. But as he snapped out of it and saw the way she was smiling back at him, he felt even happier than before.

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were a darker shade of pink because of the cold. Now that he’d paid attention to them, he couldn’t look away. If only he could just lean in and kiss her right now...

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

Her hand is right there. Hold her hand!

“What, Harry?”

Hold her hand, dickhead!

“You’re getting me a cooler Christmas gift, right?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets as the voice inside his head screamed at him, “pussy!”

Y/N didn’t suspect a thing as she gave his shoulder a nudge. “Don’t get your hopes up. But...I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Maybe? What’s that supposed to mean?”

The green light came on and the girl walked ahead, leaving him behind again.

“Wait for me! It’s cold!”

“Then walk faster and you’ll warm up!”

“I hate you!” he shouted at her. But goddamnit, he could not love her any more than this.

[moonraccoon-exe]

Hi Coonie! My fav is always slow burn and mutual pining 😍 What do you think about those?

ALSJDKDAGLJAKDLF JAKSLDJL KSGJLKAGJ ALKSFJAGKLJA

BUDDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUDDY IT U ZOMG HELLO IT’S BEEN A WHILE AND I’M SO HAPPY SO EXCITED SO AKSJDDAKLGJ TO SEE YOU AROUND AGAIN, ZOMG, ZOMGOMOGSADJGFG HOW DO I SAY HELLO ENOUGH TIMES, AAAHHH, BUDDY, IT U, U RADIANT, U PRECIOUS, U HERE!!! HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! o(≧▽≦)o

I could go on for a few more pages saying ZOMG HELLOS, BECAUSE BOY AKSLDFDAKLJGAD DID I MISS YOU!!!! AND BOY AM I EXCITED ABOUT TALKING WITH YOU AGAIN AND OH NO I SAID I WOULD NOT GO RANTING BUT HERE I AM AHAS HDDJGKLJAD, AAAHHHHHHH

Ah- ah, I calm down. What I mean is, if I try to write my answer as long as I want to make it I’m never gonna answer klasjkdlajg, so here I go, aye? Just know- I’M HYPED, LIKE SO EXITED TO BE TALKING WITH YOU BUDDY AKSLJD KLGJADG HIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!! (ノ*°▽°*)

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH, SLOW BURN AND MUTUAL PINING, YAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSS QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN

YES SO MUCH TO ALL OF THAT. IT’S ABSOLUTE JAM, FAVE CAKE, EXQUISITE DELIGHT. YOSH, YUSH, YES SO MUCH TO SLOW BURN AND MUTUAL PINING.

I love quick one-shots and cheeky attitudes, yes, but I think that I’m WAY weaker for slow burn and mutual pining. Mostly because they feel a little more...real? a little more sincere, too? I don’t know how to explain it, but BOY, do they always catch me and break me apart in the most wonderful way

They usually involve shyness from either one or both sides of the party, and that, THAT....hoh MAN, it makes me melt and become soft, warm, and squeaky goo of swetness and sugar and rainbows. Call me a hopeless cheesy romantic, but to see a character, be them confident naturally or not, blush and get insecure and all those “but what if they don’t love me back?” questions, gushing over them, SOMETIMES WITHOUT NOTICING THEY’RE IN LOVE KLAJSDKALDJG, and everything, it just- it GETS ME.

Slow burn is so adorable and it makes the romance feel so sincere

BECAUSE FUCK ME,  LOVE THAT JAM, I’M HYSTERICALLY IN LOVE WITH THAT KALSJDAKLDGJADKGL

Slow burn and mutual pining are the BEST PAIR EVER because like, they build so much of fluff and romance and IT FRUSTRATES YOU in a very beautiful an wonderful way, like- it’s not frustration like GODDAMMIT WHY, it’s frustration like “OH NO THAT WAS SO ADORABLE CAN THEY PLEASE KISS NOW KALSDJAKLDJ”, so you know, it’s like going up on the roller coaster, and you keep going up, and up, and every notch up is a higher squeal and a lot more of suspense because CAN I GO DOWN NOW

AND WHEN YOU DO

FUCK ME

WHEN IT FINALLY GOES DOWN (in this case, when it hits the romance, whEN THEY FINALLY KISS)

BOY

*LOUD INHALE*

*ASCENDS TO THE HEAVENS*

IT FEELS LIKE LIFE IS COMPELTE AND RESOLVED AND LIKE EVERYTHING IS BEAUTIFUL AND ETHEREAL AND THE WORLD IS GOOD.

YES.

YES SO MUCH TO CHARACTERS TAKING THEIR TIME, LEARNING TO LOVE EACH OTHER, NOT ADMIT IT, PINE FOR EACH OTHER AT THE SAME TIME, THEN FINALLY KISS IN THE MOST ROMANTIC SCENARIO EVER

Y      E        S

*curls up on the floor and cries because my heart is so full it’s gonna burst out of my cHEST*

But YEH! There’s surely a LOT of things left to say, I could write PAGES of slow burn and mutual pining separatedly, but for a short answer, HELL, FUCK ME, THAT’S MY JAM. People- some people may find them boring and cheesy but fUCK ME, MY HEART, I AM SO WEAK FOR SLOW AND PUPPY LOVE ;A;

SO HELL YES, YOU HAVE A VERY EXQUISITE, WONDERFUL, MAJESTIC TASTE FOR PINING TROPES, MY DEAR FRIEND, YOU GET 1000 POINTS FOR THAT, THE LUCKIEST MAGICAL RACCOONIE VIBES, AND FIVE SNUGGLES MACCOOGLES AND A RACC-FIVE 

*HIGH FIVES*

AKLSDJAKLDGJ AKLDJASKLGJ KLDAGJA KLGJALKGDJAG DKLADJF ALKGJDAG

*GLOMPS AND STAYS HUGGED TO YOUR HEAD*

BUDDY THANK YOUSOMUCHFORDROPPINGBYMYINBOX YOUMADE ME SO HAPPY ASKDLJG AKLD KLDAGJFA *SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

¨*EXPLODES*

*cries*

bUDDY, JUST- THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DROPPING BY AAAHHHHHH IT MADE ME SO HYSTERICALLY HAPPY TO SEE YOU IN MY INBOX!!! ;A;

Thank you LOTS for taking thea time to drop by and write to me. Very much appreciated and dear

Seriously, thank you lots and lots for this wonderful ask. Your presene is always welcomed and WONDERFUL and it always makes me smile. Thank you for writing to me

I hope you’re having a MOST BEAUTIFUL day or night, buddy!!! Hugs for you!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ

[its-love-u-asshole]

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 4]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Helloo I am not dead lmao and I’m almost done with finals! I’ve obviously been busy with the kurotsuki exchange and other deadlines, but don’t worry! I don’t plan on abandoning any of my fics <3 Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for checking this over! Enjoy ^^ (also I’m sorry for any formatting issues should there be any, I just got a new computer and I’m not super used to it yet??)

AO3

The walk up to Tsukishima's apartment took longer than it ever had, as if each step did a piss poor job of actually covering any ground. Everything felt off, but not...in an unpleasant way, which only served to make his body thrum in anticipation more. His fingers slid occasionally against Kuroo's, and he even dared to wrap their pinkies together as the elevator climbed up to Tsukishima's floor.

The craptastic lights flickered, and the carpet looked even more disgusting than usual, but Tsukishima was hardly bothered by it this time around. In fact, he didn't mind at all. Something was wrong.

It's called a good mood, probably.

The fuck. But from how the heat traveled up his neck, it was probably a correct assumption. He'd had a lot of fun, and he bit his lip to keep his smile from showing.

He hadn't questioned it when Kuroo only pressed for Tsukishima's floor, for several reasons. The first was that Kuroo had obviously shown himself to be a good date, albeit a cheesy one. Cheesy dates included walking the askee to their door (or at least, that's how it worked in movies). Second, and as much as it pained him to admit it, Tsukishima really really did not want the date to end.

God, even thinking it was astounding.

Tsukishima never wanted outings to continue, not even with his friends, whose company he actually enjoyed believe it or not. It wasn't anything against anyone personally, just...being forced to socialize for more than a few hours at a time got overwhelming, and being alone with his thoughts was much needed aftercare.

But Kuroo...he didn't make things tiring. Their conversations were easy, fun, enticing. Tsukishima wouldn't have hated the idea of sitting in the car with him for the rest of the night, talking about anything or just...sitting in that comfortable silence they seemed weirdly capable of. It scared him, jarred his senses into high alert.

It was slightly less concerning now though, in the sense that Tsukishima sort of knew why he felt that way. And no, not from the magical power of soulmates, though he could begrudgingly concede that the universe had picked right for once.

He fucking liked Kuroo. A lot.

And he had no idea what to do with that information. Excellent.

The slow of his pace and the image of his door brought Tsukishima back into the present, shivers travelling up his spine, and not from the peeling paint. Why was everything so aggravating?

I don't want you to go.

A brief thought, but one that had the force to knock him onto his ass had he not been leaning against the door frame.

Kuroo smiled at him, sincere and bright in the dim lighting of their shitty apartment building. They both sort of smelled like french fries, and Kuroo had tripped over the curb and almost ate shit on the way from the parking lot, but the atmosphere still seemed to charm Tsukishima to no end. Dangerous.

"Your lovely abode awaits you," Kuroo said, gesturing grandly, and his high pitched voice carried obnoxiously down the empty corridor. Normally, the potential of attracting attention would make Tsukishima cringe, but this just made him hold back a laugh. Screw his neighbors.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, scratching at the faded wallpaper. "I don't know if lovely is the best adjective. I find a cockroach at least once a week."

"Ugh lucky," Kuroo replied, shoulders sagging in a full performance of drama. He winced as a part of the wall's plaster fell off from where Tsukishima was fiddling with it. Needless to say, he stopped. "For me it's twice a week, and there's spiders too."

"Why do we live here?" Tsukishima smiled despite himself, fidgeting with his fingers behind his back. The wall had been a better distraction.

It was a fair question however, not just to Kuroo but to the universe at large. This place was falling apart. It'd been around for decades. There were ghosts in the basement. And no, not just 'shadows in the corner of the eye' ghosts, like legit ones. Musically inclined ones.

Tsukishima didn't sing in the basement anymore.

That was all a story for another time though, given he'd ever tell Kuroo his little secret. This was what he'd meant though, about things just being easy with Kuroo. Even when it came to the most mundane things. Hell, if Kuroo really wanted to stay and complain, Tsukishima was more than ready to pull out his water bill.

"Mm, because we're broke and it's close to campus?" Kuroo offered, hitting the nail on the head.

Ouch. Yeah. That hurt more than he expected it to, truthful or not.

"Guess we have no choice then," Tsukishima muttered, voice softening as he reached for the door handle. As much as conversations were infinite, even he had to know the night was over. The novelty of that feeling hit him again, but at least if he got inside his apartment, Kuroo wouldn't have to see him pace the floor over it.

The raven's laughter died out too, and before Tsukishima could offer an awkward farewell, their hands were connected again, the texture of Kuroo's rough palms not unwelcome in the least bit.

"I'd never complain about it. About you living here, I mean," Kuroo confessed, idly playing with Tsukishima's long fingers. Tsukishima didn't have room to feel self conscious about them either, not when Kuroo's voice was soothing him, lulling him into contentment. "I got to meet you so, shitty building or not, I'm hoping you stick around..."

Somehow, even Tsukishima knew the statement wasn't completely in reference to his living situation. It carried the feeling of an invitation, maybe to another date or...several other dates.

Dating.

Dating Kuroo. Wow, okay.

That thought was...nice. Very nice. Goddammit.

The thought made him outright laugh though, because on that night when he'd come face to face with an unlikely trespasser, the last thing he'd expected was to end up here. He hadn't expected Kuroo to hate his singing, or to be so considerate, or attractive, or anything to him at all.

And now here Tsukishima was, crushing on the guy with a terrible laugh and even more terrible hair, and it made complete sense to him. How did he get here?

Oh yeah, he was a siren, and Kuroo was a surprisingly determined bastard. Right.

"You just want me around so you can break into my house again," Tsukishima said, tightening his grip on Kuroo's hand.

Kuroo's face fell, and he sent a playful glare Tsukishima's way. "You're never going to let that go are you?"

"Never," Tsukishima replied, the thoughts in his head fighting to be heard. They were on the tip of his tongue, words far too intimate and personal to be shared, but he couldn't help it. With Kuroo, he felt compelled in every way, and he was beginning to not see the point in resisting. "But I'm...not unhappy, that you were on my balcony that night."

His voice was small, muffled, not clear or refined like his singing, but he couldn't tell the difference, not when Kuroo smiled so brightly.

--

As Tsukishima shut his door behind him, he couldn't help but feel totally weightless, and he did his best to fight off a grin as he leaned against it. His apartment was dark, which was odd, considering Bokuto was usually home by then, whether it be alone or with Akaashi in tow.

That was fine with him. Less explaining to do about where he'd been.

But just as Tsukishima was about to move to turn on the main overhead lights, the lamp by the window flicked on, giving the room a subtle glow. The rotating armchair they had in the living room spun around, revealing a serious looking Bokuto in a strange rendition of a mafia movie.

What.

Bokuto had his hands folding in front of his mouth, his eyes accusing Tsukishima of all sorts of things, like a parent catching their kid sneaking out of the house. The effect was seriously dulled by Bokuto's owl slippers, but oh well.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Bokuto asked, his arms crossing slowly.

"Please tell me you haven't been sitting there for hours waiting for me just for the dramatic effect," Tsukishima deadpanned, slipping off his shoes and moving to the kitchen without paying his friend much mind. He was caught yeah, but like hell was he going to look all guilty and shit.

"Forty-five minutes, but that's not important!" Bokuto jumped up from the chair, following Tsukishima with the same impressive persistence as when they were kids. "You were out with your soulmate!"

"I was out with Kuroo Tetsurou yes," Tsukishima corrected, still not entirely bent on attributing this connection to fate. It was the first romantic bond he'd ever felt, and as cheesy as it was, he felt it was far more important than some dumb prophecy. Even if that's what drew them together, he had agency dammit.

"I knew it! I totally figured it out!" Bokuto leaped in triumph, barely missing hitting his head on the ceiling, which Tsukishima was thankful for. They did not need to make another embarrassing maintenance call.

"Akaashi told you," Tsukishima stated.

"Well...yeah but, I had a feeling!"

"No you didn't."

Bokuto threw up his hands, thwarted, and Tsukishima did his best to keep his face neutral. They always got like this over the most trivial things, and surprisingly, the score was pretty even. Sometimes Bokuto would win, sometimes Tsukishima. But oh, when Tsukishima won, he gloated like there was no tomorrow.

"Kei...would you...just...please?" Bokuto pouted.

Then again, Tsukishima did have his fair share of soft spots to be preyed upon, and his gloating would be short lived.

Tsukishima sighed loudly as he poured himself some water, fixing Bokuto with a flat stare. "Fine...how on earth did you find out? You must tell me your genius methods."

"Well," Bokuto began confidently, not missing a beat. "It was so obvious. The clothes, coming home late, being all pissy these past few days, there was no other explanation!"

"Uh huh..." Tsukishima moved out of the kitchen, flopping onto the couch and settling in for what was sure to be a long conversation. He wasn't sure he was ready for this yet, the whole 'gushing about first dates with friends' kind of thing. Tsukishima did not gush. He did not have the capacity.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me! I told you everything about Akaashi when I first met him!"

"Yeah against my will," Tsukishima muttered, not that it deterred Bokuto in the slightest.

"No more secrets! Tell me everything. How was it? What did you guys do? Do you like him? Ha, what am I saying? Of course you--"

"Of course I do." The words were out of Tsukishima's mouth before he even had a say, before his brain had fully processed the several responses he could've given, any response other than that. He clapped a hand over his mouth, hearing the words echo into their tiny ass apartment.

Even Bokuto shut his mouth.

It was weird, knowing something but actually admitting it aloud. It was like it finally clicked into place, and once more, Tsukishima felt utterly lost. But his heart sped up, his skin tingled, and all he could think about was seeing Kuroo again.

"Shit," he whispered, glancing at Bokuto for help.

He didn't have much to offer. "Shit."

So wise.

"This...this is great Tsukki! I'm so happy for you and--wait, why do you look like that?" Bokuto stopped mid cheer, peering at Tsukishima with wariness laced in his expression.

Tsukishima was pale enough on his own, but at that moment, he probably looked like a ghost. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you look like you just crapped a giant load?"

Or yeah, maybe he looked like that. That worked too.

Tsukishima didn't have the strength to rebuke the statement, or fire anything intelligent back. The power of his confession was sinking into him, and all he was capable of was the truth.

"I don't know what to do about it," Tsukishima whispered into the silence of their home. "I like him. What am I supposed to do about that?"

How did any of this work? He was a siren, how did that affect things? He couldn't just come out and tell Kuroo. What if Kuroo thought he'd been tricked or something? What if he decided he didn't really like Tsukishima?

It was all way too much, but even on the surface of it all, Tsukishima was lost. Where did he go from here?

The question seemed heavy, an impossible problem with an encrypted answer. The selfish part of him weighed in there too, because above it all, he did want to spend more time with Kuroo, wanted to get to know him. It was a convoluted mess of logic and emotion, topped with uncertainty, and Tsukishima stared at the ceiling in confusion, unsure of what to do.

Nothing seemed easy in this situation, the road ahead wasn't clear.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Bokuto shrugged, his head shaking as if Tsukishima had asked the dumbest question in the world. His smile was easy and calm, obnoxiously so, but his reply still felt like a punch to the gut.

"Uh, you date him," Bokuto scoffed, turning around to retreat to his own room, gesturing for Tsukishima to follow. "Fool."

And somehow, Tsukishima felt like that's exactly what he'd end up doing, sure of himself or not.

--

After that night, Kuroo had solidified his status as a total goner.

Dating Tsukishima was great.

More than great.

He was salty as hell with a great sense of humor and legs to die for. His skin was soft, and his eyes surprisingly softer once he let his walls down, and his laugh made Kuroo want to give him whatever he wanted.

It had barely been a month since they'd met, and Kuroo was completely and totally enamored.

After their bowling date, it had been impossible for Kuroo to stay away. It was like an invisible magnet, drawing him towards the blond, and he couldn't complain. They walked each other to class sometimes, went to the movies, and met between lectures whenever they could.

Kuroo confessed that maybe he'd even neglected a few measly homework assignments just to be with Tsukishima, but he was slowly getting the hang of balancing the relationship with school. It helped that Tsukishima had a bit more self control too, making sure they didn't overwhelm each other.

As if it were possible.

The weird transition into becoming boyfriends never really happened, it was like they just knew, as unbelievable as it is. Still, Kuroo had yet to refer to Tsukishima as such. He was waiting for the right moment, specifically a moment where he'd be able to see Tsukishima's face light up from a blush, but no one had to know that.

Point was, Kuroo had no intentions of seeing anyone else, didn't want to. His friends could say he was whipped all they wanted, he was happy with it.

Kuroo sighed dreamily as he walked down the road from his last class, his heart already racing in anticipation with the thought of meeting up with Tsukishima. Man, the honeymoon phase was a force to be reckoned with.

Kuroo slowed his steps, hearing them scuff against the pavement while he adjusted his pace. Maybe he was a little too eager. He pulled his coat tighter around him as a gust of wind hit, and he could already smell the damp earth from the greenhouse as he approached it.

Tsukishima had asked him to meet him there so they could walk back together, and Kuroo had jumped on the opportunity. Plus, it was nice to see Tsukishima in his element, planting flowers and managing the greenhouse's general upkeep. He looked calm when he gardened, whether it be on his balcony or on campus, and Kuroo was hoping to get a few candid pictures today. At the thought, he pulled out his phone. Gotta be prepared.

The greenhouse would be a good background too he figured, and Tsukishima deserved the best (not that he'd approve of the photos at all, but he didn't have to know).

Kuroo had never actually set foot in the greenhouse before meeting Tsukishima, in fact, he barely remembered its existence. It always looked a bit abandoned and overgrown, and he didn't understand why Tsukishima felt the need to do all that work by himself everyday.

Kuroo figured it was mostly for alone time than anything else, but damn, he had to give Tsukishima credit for not going mad.

He was looking at his phone, absentmindedly flicking through the few notifications on his screen, when he bumped into someone, hard.

With an 'oof,' Kuroo stumbled back, catching himself before he landed on his ass.

Oh shit, nice going.

Kuroo wasn't exactly scrawny. He wasn't even being arrogant when he said he knew he was well built. Whoever he'd bumped into, they had to be hurting.

"Hey, I'm sorry I--" Kuroo began, but the sight in front of him made the words die in his throat. First off, the guy he'd bumped into wasn't even looking at him. The guy didn't seem concerned in the least bit that he'd just been nearly mowed over, but not only that, he wasn't the only one blocking Kuroo's path.

The greenhouse was surrounded by eight or ten guys, all pushing and crowding to get a glimpse of...something. Kuroo wasn't really sure.

"Uh, excuse me," Kuroo tried, but all he managed to do was nudge a few guys out of the way as he fought to get to the entrance. No one paid him the slightest mind, no glances, no complaints, nothing.

What the hell?

As he neared the front of the pack, he could hear muffled voices, accompanied by hushed whispers.

"Do you need help? I'll do anything you need me to do!"

"I need you to leave!"

"Can I carry those for you?"

"Wow, you're pretty..."

"No I don't need help! God, you morons, go away! Snap out of it!"

Huh? Tsukki?

Something burned in Kuroo's chest, a mix of jealousy and worry. Was something wrong with Tsukki? He finally pushed past the last few people, not caring about his manners anymore as he used his strength to move in the sea of guys. He came face to face with his blond, who looked downright exasperated. It was...cute, but Kuroo filed the thought away for later. When Tsukishima caught sight of him, he tensed up instantly, his delicate features etched with worry.

The protectiveness in Kuroo surged.

He grabbed Tsukishima's shoulders, pulling him close. He sent a few glares out into the group of onlookers for good measure, upset they weren't giving Tsukishima ample room. What the hell were they doing at the greenhouse anyways?

"Hey, is everything alright? Did something happen?" Kuroo asked, looking Tsukishima up and down as he prevented the dudes from moving closer.

But as the words left his mouth, something changed. The air around them stilled for a brief second, and then in the next, everyone was moving away. It was like time had stopped and jump started right before him, and Kuroo shook his head from the feeling.

He looked around as the crowd of guys began to wander off, looking confused and massaging their temples. A few stopped to apologize for being weird, but otherwise, they all quickly dispersed.

In his grip, he felt Tsukishima exhale deeply, and Kuroo's eyes locked on him once again.

"What...was that about?" Kuroo asked, not trusting his perception of things after all that. "Were they...hitting on you or something?"

Somehow even that inference felt wrong. Kuroo did not know what the fuck was going on, but going off what he heard, it was his best bet.

In a flash, Tsukishima found his voice, and the blond shrugged, though the movement wasn't natural in the slightest. "Yeah there was uh...a broken window in the greenhouse, I didn't notice and I dropped some stuff so...those guys heard and offered to help, but it was fine," Tsukishima said, his breathing still not quite even. The blond's fingers twitched at his sides, and his shoulders were far too stiff for the nonchalance he was trying to force.

"Why were you telling them to leave then?" Kuroo asked, squinting at the hole in one of the nearby windows.

"Well, they helped clean up but after, some of them started to flirt with me, and so I was getting annoyed," Tsukishima said, and it was believable, funny even. Of course the blond would get angered by all the attention. It made Kuroo happy to hear too, knowing Tsukishima wasn't interested in anyone else.

"Are you sure?" Kuroo had to make sure, he was still trying to navigate Tsukishima's nervous ticks and personality traits, and he seemed like the type to potentially bottle things up. Kuroo wanted to make sure everything was truly fine, he wanted to be there for Tsukishima in any and every way.

Man, you are whipped.

Whatever.

"Positive," Tsukishima breathed, smiling softly in a way that completely destroyed Kuroo's thought process. Seriously, his heart probably stalled for a few beats, but it was the best feeling ever.

And well, Kuroo had no reason to question Tsukishima, though he remained sort of tense. Maybe all the attention had just made him flustered, or maybe Tsukishima had a stressful day in his classes. Whatever the reason, he knew Tsukishima would tell him the truth eventually.

Kuroo smiled, brushing off the weird feeling in the back of his mind. "As long as no one was bothering you too much, that's good. I thought I'd have to deck someone."

Tsukishima snorted at that, giving Kuroo a playful shove before locking up the greenhouse. "Not necessary. And if it had been, I would've done it myself."

"I don't doubt it," Kuroo said with a grin, pocketing his phone. Pictures would have to happen later. "Are you ready to go?"

Kuroo was already grabbing Tsukishima's hand, watching their fingers interlock gently, a perfect fit. The blond nodded, and they fell into step easily, eager to get home and share the evening together.

Kuroo hadn't gotten to take any pictures in the end, but the smiles on Tsukishima's face made up for it.

--

See, dating Tsukishima was a dream. There was just one thing, one little thing, which Kuroo couldn't help but find strange...

He hadn't noticed it at first. It hadn't come up, hadn't even made itself known. But ever since the greenhouse incident, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Every once in a while, he'd find one or two guys crowded around Tsukishima, obsessively so. Tsukishima would eventually chase them off, or Kuroo would, but it was getting more and more frequent.

Tsukishima was attractive, incredibly so. It didn't surprise Kuroo to see him get hit on, though his blood still boiled with every encounter. But this...this was weird. It's like the guys had no self control or care in the world when they did it. Hell, Kuroo had even seen some guys he knew had girlfriends or boyfriends, shamelessly flirt with Tsukishima.

It was getting stranger by the day.

Not to mention the fact that Kuroo had found out about Tsukishima's countless singing awards from grade school. Ribbons, plaques, small trophies, the whole thing. All first place. Now again, Kuroo was totally enamored with Tsukishima, like wow, it was nearly intoxicating how stupid in love he was getting. But Tsukishima was not a good singer. He was probably the worst singer Kuroo had ever heard in his life. It wasn't him being malicious, he was simply stating a fact. He respected Tsukishima's love of singing, and would let him do so whenever he wanted, but it was the truth. The blond had a horrid voice, so how in the hell did everyone love his singing?

Kuroo...may or may not have started asking people. From people he'd seen hitting on Tsukishima, to mere acquaintances, Kuroo couldn't help it.

"Oh yeah, I don't remember much about talking to him, it's kinda fuzzy, but I definitely remember him being a good singer!"

"Oh yeah man, his voice is like an angel's or something!"

"The best choir performances were the ones Tsukishima participated in! It's a shame he doesn't anymore though..."

"Oh yeah, he was at my elementary school. Great voice."

Kuroo's head flopped down onto his dining table, causing Oikawa to jump as he cooked in the kitchen. Kuroo groaned loudly, his hands coming up to tangle in his unruly hair. "It doesn't make sense...maybe I'm crazy. Or tone deaf. Something."

Kuroo's head shot up when Oikawa settled across the table from him, those chocolate eyes boring into him warily. Gradually, Oikawa picked up his utensils, trying to eat his stir fry without breaking eye contact with Kuroo, like Kuroo was some sort of lunatic.

"Kuroo...I'm starting to get worried. You've been sitting here for like...an hour, babbling at the wall," Oikawa said, mouth full. "Whatever it is you're thinking, you're probably just being paranoid."

"I'm not though! C'mon, isn't it a little weird?" Kuroo asked, throwing up his hands. He could hear loud footsteps above him, no doubt those of Tsukishima's roommate, and he willed himself to lower his voice. The walls were thin in this shithole.

"What, that people think your boyfriend can sing? Big whoop," Oikawa said. "He can't be that good, I'm sure people agree with you. It's a taste issue."

"You don't get it Oikawa, something's off about it. It's like I'm missing something," Kuroo continued, his voice a harsh whisper. "Think about it. Everyone else thinks his singing is amazing, but I somehow can't appreciate it? Me? His boyfriend? And not only that, he gets hit on all the time, in the weirdest ways. It's like people can't help themselves!"

At that, Oikawa cackled, and Kuroo was two seconds away from punching him. "He can join the club then. I get hit on all the time, or I used to anyways..." Oikawa sighed dramatically, holding up his hand and showing off his shiny engagement ring.

Fucker.

"It's not the same, I don't know," Kuroo tried to reason. "You have to see it. It's like they're possessed."

All of a sudden, Oikawa's plate clanged from the force of having chopsticks crash against it, and Oikawa shot up from his seat, mouth agape and his mind obviously running a mile a minute. "Oh my god! Do you know what this sounds like?!"

Oikawa's hands were beating against their shitty table, and Kuroo thought it might actually break this time. Oikawa's gaze was intense and menacing, practically begging Kuroo to have whatever revelation had just occurred to him.

"Uh...what?" Kuroo replied, not bothering to hide how dumb he was feeling.

Oikawa scoffed, rolling his eyes and immediately retreating to the living room, where their two unstable bookcases sat. He then proceeded to completely fuck them up.

Books were flying left and right, and soon they littered the floor, half open and pages bent from Oikawa's fury. The brunet continued to rifle through the shelves, throwing out anything unsatisfactory in a blink of an eyes as he continued his search. Oikawa was ruthless in every area of life it seemed. God help the school librarians.

"Hey I spent hours organizing that last week!" Kuroo yelled over the clamor, but all he received was an unimpressed stare. Yeah fine, not the coolest thing to say, but he valued some order goddammit.

"Shut it Kuroo, I'm trying to help you," Oikawa said as more books hit the floor. Eventually, Oikawa pulled a large, tattered looking guidebook from the top shelf, his face lighting up in triumph. "I found it!"

Not wasting a second, Oikawa was back at the dining table before Kuroo could even reply, slamming the book down.

Mythology and Tales of Old, was written in spiraling bronze on the front cover, the color dulled from years of use. It was a decent sized book, but Kuroo had yet to see what knowledge it had to offer. Myths were myths, as in, they weren't real.

Before Kuroo could make the point though, Oikawa was already flipping from the table of contents to the correct page, his fingers deft and his movement purposeful. As he turned to the page he needed, a bit of dust blew up into the air, but the brunet paid it no mind, moving around the table until he was seated next to Kuroo.

"I knew it would pay off to keep this book! I took that mythology class in my first year, and I still remember a lot of stuff! What you were saying sounded familiar, and naturally, I was right," Oikawa said a gleam in his eyes before pointing at the book. "Look!"

Kuroo glanced at the page, noting the darkness of the illustration. It was of a ship full of men, being lured to their doom by the voices of beautiful women. At the top of the page, the word 'Sirens' stood out in bold, black print.

"Sirens," Oikawa began to read, "were beautiful but dangerous creatures that lured sailors to their deaths with their beautiful and enticing songs, and would often cause the ships to crash on the reefs near their island. Siren songs were said to be heavenly and impossible to resist, making even the loyalest and strongest men lose their free will."

Below the description were more facts about references to the sirens in literature, or other variations of the myth, but Kuroo didn't care to hear more. Oikawa was being ridiculous.

"My boyfriend is not a siren Oikawa," Kuroo said, closing the book, much to Oikawa's annoyance. "First off, he's not a woman, and second, there's just no way."

Oikawa rolled his eyes, clutching the book tight against his chest. "So close minded Kuroo. This book was written by humans. Humans don't know shit. There could totally be male sirens. And admit it, it would make sense."

"No it wouldn't! If Tsukki was a siren, shouldn't I think his voice is incredible too? Isn't that how it works?" Kuroo asked, pacing the floor of their apartment.

Oikawa's face twisted, combing his mind for a possible reason, but in the end he came up with nothing. "Maybe you're an exception."

Kuroo laughed, flopping down onto the couch in defeat. "Is there such a thing?"

"Who knows..." Oikawa moved back to the living room, his movements slow as he began to pick up the array of books he'd displaced. As much as Kuroo was happy to see Oikawa not be right for once, he couldn't help but be disappointed. He still had no clue what was going on, or if he was overthinking things.

Something felt off, but maybe he was imagining it? Either way, all he wanted was to forget about it, and maybe go visit Tsukishima. Source of the confusion or not, the blond always had a way of making Kuroo's problems feel less heavy.

As Oikawa finished putting the books away, Kuroo thought their conversation was over, and made a move to lift himself off the couch.

He was wrong.

"It can't be helped," Oikawa sighed, causing Kuroo to freeze mid step. "We're just gonna have to test it."

Kuroo's eyes widened, but as always, Oikawa didn't wait for him to catch up. Phone in hand, Oikawa sent out a flurry of texts before grabbing his notebook (Kuroo called it his 'evil plan' notebook, so yeah, this was not good).

"Wait...we can't just...how are you--"

Oikawa cut Kuroo off with a groan, his hand still scribbling notes a mile a minute. "Kuroo, you may not believe it, but I know you. If you don't eliminate all the possibilities, you're going to get obsessive. So, let's just prove me wrong, even though I'm not, so you can move on yeah?"

U g h.

Kuroo whined, and Oikawa must've taken it as a 'go for it' because he promptly returned to his notebook.

The worst part was, he was probably right. Not about the siren thing, that was bullshit. But about Kuroo needing to exhaust all potential explanations, stupid or not. Oikawa put this siren idea in his head, so now they'd have to see it through, or Kuroo would never have peace of mind.

Leaving Oikawa to his planning, Kuroo went to his room, deciding he needed a serious nap before he did anything else.

Whatever Oikawa had up his sleeve, Kuroo only hoped it didn't mess up what he had with Tsukishima, or make him look like a total idiot. But as his eyes started to drift closed, the weird feeling in the back of Kuroo's head seemed to grow, seeping into every thought and dream he had.

[solastia]

Beneath The Surface | 3

Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Pairing: Hoseok X Reader

Word Count: 4,212

Notes: Ok, I know I said this chapter was going to be a ticket to angstville, but I lied. That’s the next chapter. I decided to just give a touch of angst. I thought Hobi deserved to have a nice date first. Also, so far this is one my favorite chapters of anything I’ve written so far. I freaking love boyfriend Hobi. 

Genre & Warnings: Smut, Angst, Hoseok being cheesy but cute. Doing naughty things in public.

Taking extra precaution to silently creep down the hallway, Hoseok almost let out a loud screech when he was tapped on the shoulder from behind.

“Where the hell have you been?” Namjoon asked, quirking his eyebrow at him. 

“Out,” Hoseok mumbled, avoiding eye contact and continued walking, Namjoon following close behind. 

“Out where, exactly? You were gone all night, and then all day today. You’re lucky I covered for you when Manager came by. Wait, did you leave with that girl?” 

“If by “That girl” you mean Y/N, then yes.” And, oh, how he wished he was still there. He couldn’t believe he’d only known her for a day. It felt she was meant to be his, and he planned on holding onto her whatever it took. He could still smell her on him. The mixture of strawberry and sex was intoxicating. The ache to hold her again was almost painful. 

"J, you gotta be careful, man. You can’t just go around fucking whoever. If she blabs or someone finds out, there would be a shit show to deal with. If you’re that desperate for a fuck, you know Bang PD has those discreet escorts on call.”

“I’m not stupid, Namjoon. I just had to get out for a while. Don’t worry, she’s cool.”

“You think I don’t want to get out sometimes? I do, trust me. I know. But we have an obligation...”

“Goddammit! I KNOW, okay? Fuck.”

Hoseok turns and mumbles, “I’ll see you later.” Namjoon snorts. “Whatever man, just don’t forget they want to see a song sample from your mixtape next week.” He finally enters his own room, leaving Hoseok to finish his journey to Yoongi’s. 

Hoseok is thrilled to see that Yoongi is actually here. He knows that if anyone can help him and not spread stories around, it’s Yoongi. He throws himself on the bed next to Yoongi, who is lounging and scrolling through his phone. 

“Can I talk to you?”

“Apparently you can since you’re speaking to me right now.”

“Please don’t. I'm serious. I really need a good friend right now.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. What’s going on?” Yoongi sets his phone down, giving Hoseok his full attention.

“I’m head over heels for a girl. I REALLY like her, and I want to take her out tonight. I need you to cover for me. Tell everyone I’m down with a cold or something, I don’t care.” Hoseok looks at Yoongi pleadingly, although he knows the routine. He’ll bitch for a bit, then do it anyway. 

“You know that we are at our highest point so far in our careers, so all eyes are on us, and dating is fucking risky?” 

Hoseok nods.

“And you think she’s worth it?”

He simply nods again. 

Yoongi lets out a long-suffering sigh. 

“Alright, you know I’ll help you. Make sure you both are hoodied and masked up. If anyone takes pictures, you’re fucked.” He reaches over to his nightstand and picks up a condom and his car keys, throwing them at Hoseok. 

“And remember,” He drawled, shooting a gummy smile at Hoseok, “Don’t be a fool, wrap your tool.” 

“If only Army knew you can be almost as bad as Seokjin.” Hoseok sighs, smiling widely at Yoongi. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it.” 

Yoongi salutes Hoseok on his way out of the room, quickly going back to scrolling away on his phone. Hoseok heads to his own room, a little more lighthearted. Maybe things will work out after all if even Yoongi wasn’t TOO worried. 

You look in your mirror, pleased with the final outfit choice. Sexy stalker look apparently suited you. Knowing that you and Hobi were going to have to be discreet, you’d draped yourself head to toe in black. Black skinny jeans, black off shoulder peasant shirt, even shiny black pumps. Knowing he’d be here any moment, you went ahead and threw on the equally black zip-up hoodie and sat on the couch to wait. You weren’t sure what time he’d be there, but since it was already late in the day, he couldn’t be much longer.

It’s been seven hours. It’s now midnight, and you’ve finally gotten caught up on the show you’ve been putting off for six months. You sigh, clicking off the television and head to your room. You’re pretty sure you’ve just been stood up. Not that you’re that surprised. The idea that some super hot, super famous, incredible in bed, celebrity would actually want to date you was too far-fetched to believe anyway. Still, he could have at least sent you some lame excuse text. You would have even accepted the ole “It’s not you, it’s me.” Anything was better than silence. 

You throw off your hoodie and kick off your heels, laughing at yourself. Ah, you really were a dummy. You pause when you see the bed. You still had to change the sheets. You rip them off immediately, bundling them up in your hands as you walk to your washing machine. You can smell him on them as you walk. Soft hints of vanilla and sweat. He really did smell great for a guy. Yet another thing that was totally unfair. You threw the sheets into the washer angrily, starting it and practically stomping back to your room. You throw yourself on your bed, not even bothering to get a new sheet set, and just stare at the ceiling. 

You’re distracted from your self-loathing by a soft yip and scratching at the front door. Momo must have heard a neighbor come home or something. Then you hear a knock on the door. You glance to your right at your alarm clock. 12:45 am. What the hell? You get up with a groan and shuffle lazily to the front door. You really need to call the front office and tell them to fix your door camera, you make a mental note as you open the door. 

“Good evening, beautiful!” And there he is, equally clothed in all black, smiling from ear to ear. Were you seeing things now?

“Hobi?” you can’t help but gawk at him, but he just smiles down at you in understanding. 

“I know, it’s super late. I couldn’t warn you ahead of time how long it was going to take because they were doing phone checks today. Like we’re dumbass teenagers instead of grown men.” He mutters bitterly, but he reaches out his hand that he had been hiding behind his back. 

“TADA! Sunflowers! So even though we have to have our date in the middle of the night like a couple of vampires, you can still see the sun!” You cringe at his utter cheesiness as he hands you a gorgeous, AND HUGE, bouquet of sunflowers, peppered with baby breath. You can’t help but smile. 

“Funnily enough, sunflowers are my favorite.” His smile widens even more, something you hadn’t thought was possible. 

“WOW, I’m good. I’ll have to remember to always get Sunflowers for my Sunflower” He puffs out his chest, and you laugh at his antics, ready to forget that just moments ago you were damning him to hell. 

“Well, come in. I’m sure you can see Momo wants to see you, and I’ll just get some shoes and a jacket on.” You walk to the kitchen to put the flowers in water as Hobi makes himself comfortable on your couch, your ever-so-loyal pup making himself comfortable next to him. 

You head back to your room, throwing the hoodie and heels back on as Hobi yells from the living room. 

“Honestly, I thought you’d be a lot more mad and screaming at me about making you wait so long. Sorry about that, baby.” 

You walk back into the living room and try to shrug like you weren’t having a mental crisis earlier. 

“Uh, well, I didn’t think you were actually coming. So, this is actually a pleasant surprise.” 

Hobi cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, ye of little faith. Can’t you tell yet you have me whipped as fuck for you?” 

“Hoseok, it’s been ONE DAY!” you laugh at his ridiculousness. 

He scrunches his face in confusion. “Are you sure? I could have sworn this was our fifth-year anniversary date. I was even planning on giving you the traditional fifth-year gift of some wood later.” 

“Oh my God, that was horrible,” you mutter with a shake of your head, as he chuckles and leads you out to the car. 

“What are we even going to do? It’s almost one in the morning,” you ask as you settle in.

“What’s the use of being a celebrity if you don’t have connections? Just trust me.” He starts the car and threads his free hand in yours as he sets off. You stare at your clasped hands in wonder. It amazed you how easily normal, every day, couple things didn’t seem out of place, despite only knowing each other for such a short time. You knew he was kidding about the five years earlier, but it really did feel like you’d been together forever. You weren’t sure yet how you felt about that. You look up to see him smiling softly at you before he turns back to the road. You sigh in contentment as you feel his thumb making little circles, and lean your head back, relishing the moment. 

“We’re here, baby.” you hear a hushed voice in your ear, and you slowly start to wake up. You look through hooded eyes to see Hobi smirking in your face. “Good morning, sunflower.” 

“Mmmphh, sorry. Being in the car always makes me sleepy, unless I’m driving.” 

“It’s Okay. Although you probably shouldn’t drive with anyone else for awhile, if you’re going to be moaning out “Oh HOSEOK” in your sleep.” He grins at your mortified expression. 

“Don’t worry, I enjoyed it very much.” He pecks your lips really quickly, before rushing around to your side of the car, opening the door for you and reaching out his hand. You accept it, and he directs you to stand in front of him to look at the building.

“Here we are. Dinner and a movie. AT THE SAME TIME! Cool, right? You sit down, and they have a little screen that you order from. You can eat restaurant-type food while you watch the movie. They agreed to keep it running late for us. I got tickets for that new comedy.” 

Little did Hoseok know that you were already aware of the place. You remembered it opening for the first time, and you BEGGED your fiance to take you. It sounded so cool, but he’d said it was tacky and that he wouldn’t be caught dead there. And now here you were. Such a little thing, and he didn’t even know how much it meant to you. 

“LET’S GO!” You yell, grabbing Hobi as you practically skip inside. He laughs at your eagerness. 

“AH, so cute.” he murmurs, lacing your hands together as you enter the theater. 

“YAH, that’s your fifth bite. You said you wanted to take one bite to try it. Do you want to switch plates?” You tease Hobi as he shoves another bite of your spaghetti into his mouth, knowing it will just prompt him to take another bite to get a reaction out of you.

He’s barely touched his own dinner, not that you can blame him. It was just a salad, albeit a big salad, but still mostly made of nothing but iceberg lettuce and tomatoes. He said he had to watch his diet since they were going to be filming something soon. You still couldn’t find this speck of fat he kept talking about. He looked lean and muscular like a dancer should. Luckily, you’ve been able to tease him into eating more of your pasta than he’d planned, and that made you feel a little less guilty eating it in front of him. 

“No, just wanted a bite. You want a bite of mine?” He offers you a bit of the salad, and you accept, forcing yourself to act like lemon juice is a totally acceptable salad dressing. 

You turn to the movie as a loud crash in it distracts you, chuckling as you see Hobi steal another bite of pasta. Honestly, you can’t even recall what the movie was about. Some silly college comedy. The two of you had been just talking and laughing together, only turning to the movie on occasion. You could get used to empty movie theaters. You look down and smile before pushing the button to call the attendant to pick up your dishes. Hoseok had eaten the rest of your pasta.

The attendant comes quickly, clearing everything away, and leaves just as fast. Hoseok is leaning back in his chair, patting his stomach contently. He throws an arm around your shoulders, and you lean into him. As far as first dates went, this was definitely up there. There was no awkwardness, just a constant flow of conversation as the two of you continued getting to know each other better. It also probably helped that you’d gotten the initial sexual tension out of the way. You’d already had sex four times today, a record breaker for you. You felt him move his arm from around your shoulders and place his hand high on your thigh, stroking lightly. Apparently, someone thought he’d try for a fifth time. Your suspicions were confirmed when he suddenly drops out of his seat onto the floor, coming up between your legs, and stroking his hands up and down your thighs slowly. He looks up at you, his endearingly sweet smile contrasting almost perversely with his actions. 

“What are you doing?” You hiss at him. “It’s one thing to get caught on a date, it’s another thing to be caught doing it in public with your date. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“Relax, baby. I told them not to come back in after we finished eating dinner. And now...it’s time for my dessert.” 

Your breath hitches as he winks at you and reaches up to the buttons on your skinny jeans, popping them open with snail-like speed. He pulls down the zipper, and you lift up to help him as he tugs down your pants, the cool air hitting your core. You hear him hiss in a breath when he looks back up. 

“No panties? Wow, my girl is naughty.” He chuckles, kissing the inside of your thighs as he makes his way closer to you. You buck when you feel his hot breath on you, already so sensitive just from anticipation. 

Anticipation turns to embarrassment when you realize he’s just smelling you. He practically has his nose shoved in there. You hear his ragged moan as a widens your legs to move closer. He makes his fingers into a V shape, rubbing them up and down through your folds slowly. He’s definitely in no rush.

“God, you always smell so fucking good. Like strawberries and just...you.” He presses a small kiss the top of your mound. All the things that you’ve done together already and this feels like the most intimate. 

You whimper loudly as he flattens his tongue and licks a line from your hole to your clit, circling around it with the tip. With a raspy groan, he pulls you closer to the edge of the seat by your thighs and throws your legs over his shoulders before diving back in like a man possessed. 

You throw your head back, panting heavily. You feel his tongue everywhere; sucking your clit, licking through your folds, lapping away at both of your holes. The sounds of lewd slurping and his deep moans only pushing you closer to the edge. 

“God, baby, you are dripping onto the floor.” He pulls back to look at his handiwork, staring at your pussy like he’s starving, and you feel yourself shiver at the sight of him. His face is covered in your juices, his lips red and puffy. Without thinking, you grab his hair and shove his face back into you. You decided that’s your favorite place for him to be. Only he could make getting eaten out in a movie theater feel like it’s something special. 

“Fuck, yes, ride my face. Use me to cum, baby.” You hear his muffled groan as you rock back and forth across his face, his nose bumping across your clit and his tongue deep in your hole, fucking you with it. 

“Ohhh, Hobi, I’m so fucking close...” you wail, grasping hard at his hair, your thighs probably choking him to death. Suddenly, he looks up at you with a smirk before sliding three fingers right into you, hooking to rub against the spot no one else had ever bothered to touch. 

With a scream, your back arches and you cum, your body pulsing. Your mind clears of everything but the absolute pleasure you were feeling. It felt like you were going forever. As you start to come down, panting and shaking, you look down. Hobi’s head is thrown back, his shirt drenched, bucking his hips erratically into the air. You hear him yell out your name, and watch as another wet spot forms on the front of his pants. 

Hoseok opens his eyes to look at you with a sleepy grin, crumpling to the floor and leaning his head against the back of the chair behind him. 

“Shit, that was probably the hottest thing of all time.” He chuckles, looking down at his shirt. 

“Don’t you...need me to take care of you?” You ask, sitting up a little more, your mind finally starting to clear. 

Hobi laughs. “I just came in my pants like I’m a fucking thirteen year old. I’m good. You squirted all over me, and I lost my mind. Trust me, I had plans to bend you over the back of that seat, but you are too hot.” 

“I what?” You thought that was just sweat all over his shirt. You...

“Squirted. Came like a fucking Goddess all over my hands and face, drenched my shirt. You’re amazing. I don’t think I’ll ever get the sight of you cumming so hard like that out of my head.” He was pulling your pants back onto you, kissing your thighs on his way up. You lift up to help get them back on, and as he’s buttoning them closed, he leans down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet, and you can taste yourself on him. 

“I think since neither of us has been watching this movie, you wouldn't mind if we left early? I’m starting to get a little uncomfortable down there.” He grins, flicking his eyes down to the stain on the front of his jeans. You blush and nod, gathering your things together to head out. After he throws his hoodie and mask back on, he threads his fingers through yours, and you leave the theater. 

Hobi walks you up to your door and releases your hand, stuffing his in his pockets. He leans down, kissing you hard, and pulls back with a smile. 

“I want to stayyyyy.” He whines loudly, making you smile at his antics. “But we have a shoot in the morning. I have to head back and get the four hours of sleep ahead of me. If I stay here right now, I won’t be sleeping.” He growls playfully, making you giggle, and you nod in understanding. 

“It’s fine. And, in case I didn’t make it clear enough, I had a great time tonight. Uh, if you want to leave it with me, I can wash your shirt for you.” You raise an eyebrow and nod at his chest. 

“Hell no! I’m keeping it and using it for all sorts of depraved activities because it smells like you. I can still smell it under the hoodie. If you’d had panties, I would be using those instead, but someone is a naughty miss.” He leans down and kisses your blushing face before starting to head back downstairs. 

“Get some sleep, Sunflower. I need you well rested.” He smiles over his shoulder, adding a quick wink. “I’ll text you later in the day.” 

You watch as he gets into the car, and he purses his lips into the most ridiculous kissy face as he drives past. You wave until you can’t see the car anymore, feeling silly. 

An hour later, you’re showered and eating a bowl of ramen, Momo at your feet. You swear the image of Hoseok’s wet and desperate face as he eats you out is going to be burned into your brain for the rest of your life. It was probably going to be the last thing you see before you die. You’re never going to have to look at porn again for the rest of your life. 

“Ahh, Momo, have I gone crazy? I’ve known the guy for a day, and already he’s all I can think about.” You stare at the sunflower bouquet he’d brought earlier as you eat, the events from the past day running through your mind. 

You wonder if the fact that he’d been your BTS bias before you’d met him added to your feelings. Perhaps the fact that you’d known of his existence and adored him from afar for four years caused you to have this feeling like you’d known him forever. You knew that knowing about someone famous was not the same as actually knowing them; you didn’t know their doubts, fears, worries. You hoped that Hoseok would stick around long enough for you to learn what he hid beneath his happy surface. Hell, at this point you were practically hoping he’d stick around forever. Sighing at your ridiculous thoughts, you put Momo to bed and head to your room, knowing that he’d be in your dreams at least. 

Hoseok was pretty sure he was in love.

The whole ride back to the dorms, he could smell her through the hoodie, and taste her in his mouth, and it drove him crazy. The sight of her cumming like that was going to be wank bank fodder for the next fifty years. The way she’d arched her whole body up, screaming HIS name. When she’d squirted all over him, he’d done his best to lap up what he could, drinking it down like it was the nectar of life. God, she was the sexiest woman alive to him. He couldn’t stop thinking of what else he’d want to do with her. She seemed so deliciously open to things. Even when he’d started things in the theater, her first worry was him getting in trouble, not doing it in the first place. 

As much as he couldn’t stop thinking of things to do to her, he thought about things to do WITH her just as much. He wanted to take her out for picnics or go to the beach. Hell, he’d like her to meet his Mom. He had it bad. He shook his head at himself as he made his way up into the dormitory after parking Yoongi’s car. 

For the second time today, Hoseok found himself creeping through the dorm, trying to get to the room he shared with Jimin quietly. He needed a change of clothes, a shower, and to rub one out while smelling her on his shirt. Not necessarily in that order. There were no lights coming from any of the rooms, showing that everyone was still asleep. The door to his room was cracked open, which was odd, but he didn’t think too much of it and crept inside. Suddenly, the desk lamp was turned on, and Manager Sejin stared at Hoseok from the desk chair. His look screamed disappointment and worry, and Hoseok got ready for the lecture that was sure to come. 

“Welcome back. I think we need to talk.” 

[stereksummerexchange]

Don't Have Sex, Because You Will Get Pregnant...And Die.

@kieren-fucking-walker - Hi, I’m sorry if this is too fluffy! BTW NO this is not mpreg/omega!verse! I just love mean girls!

by @jadorehale

Really, the best thing to ever happen to Beacon Hills High School was Stiles Stilinski. He was a star pupil. The very best in his class. Student of the Month year round. On the fast track to Harvard. And outshined all the other kids in his class with his pure awesomeness on a daily basis to the point where it was downright embarrassing. He didn’t want to jinx it but he was pretty much a shoo-in for valedictorian. Sorry, Lydia Martin! And he never caused any trouble at all. Not ever.

“DETENTION AGAIN, MR. STILINSKI!”

Did he mention he was every teacher’s darling?

Stiles stood at his locker after the last bell and frowned down at the all too familiar pink slip in his hand, questioning why the world was so unfair. Sure, most of these infractions were one-hundred percent his own doing, but in his defense, Harris had made two very implausible and inaccurate statements in the same class period, basically begging Stiles to make a mockery out of him in front of everyone. Stiles just hoped Harvard recognized what a scholarly and academically enriching extra-curricular activity detention could be.

“Seriously, another one?” A voice behind him said. A voice that Stiles had not been expecting seeing as he was the only one left in the hall. The voice also sounded highly amused when Stiles jumped and shrieked then whirled around in surprise.

“Jeez!” Stiles said, clutching his heart. “Can we make noises before we scare people to death? Heavy breathing! Tap dancing! Anything would be great!”

There wasn’t an ounce of guilt on Derek’s ridiculously handsome face and Stiles couldn’t even pretend to stay mad. He should be used to this by now. Derek liked to sneak up on him when he least expected it all the time. Which made sense seeing as he was Derek’s concubine. Sneaking around just happened to be a very essential part of their deep dark secret relationship.

The halls were empty but Stiles still checked to make sure they were safe. It was too risky if anyone saw them. Derek was the super popular basketball god and his social status would perish if he were to be associated with Stiles, the school’s biggest loser. Some would even liken it to the fall of Rome.

“Don’t you have practice?” Stiles asked, letting Derek press him up against the lockers anyway, his arms hanging loosely around Derek’s neck.

“I can skip it,” Derek murmured, nibbling on his ear.

“But it’s tryouts and you’re co-captain,” Stiles noted.

Derek lifted his head at that, pursing his lips. “You know, I’ve been meaning to quit basketball.”

Stiles leveled him a flat look. “You are not quitting basketball just so you can make out with me.”

“Why not?” Derek pouted, brushing the tips of their noses together. “I’ve decided that this is a much better use of my time.”

Stiles stopped arguing when Derek kissed him, easily persuaded by the softness on Derek’s mouth and the enticing feel of his rough stubble. It was startling how fast their kissing escalated these days. How they’d gone from modest and tame to something a lot more passionate and hungry. Stiles moaned when Derek deepened the kiss and slipped fingers under the hem of his shirt, his thumb rubbing circles into Stiles’ hipbone.

They weren’t supposed to still be doing this. When they hooked up at that party at the end of sophomore year, they’d agreed that it would only be for the summer and that they’d put an end to it once the school year started. But now, it was mid-November and they continued to be hot and heavy, which would only make things harder in the end when it was time to walk away.

“Hey! We talked about this!” Stiles squirmed when Derek started sucking on his neck. Something that would usually have Stiles rolling his eyes back into his head and melting into puddles on the floor. “No more hickeys. I can’t keep wearing scarves around my dad. He won’t stop laughing at me.”

Derek chuckled but captured his lips again, making Stiles forget about the scolding as he slipped closer and rolled his hips, wrenching a gasp from Stiles’ throat as they grinded against each other. A major situation was going down in Stiles’ pants and he needed to stop this before he made an absolute fool of himself.

“I’ve got detention,” Stiles said hoarsely and pulled away, shifting and adjusting himself to hide just how turned on he was. He spun back to his locker in a daze, grabbing his backpack and closed it as he ran his tongue over his swollen puffy lips.

When he was about to kiss Derek goodbye and leave, Derek stopped him and said, “Wait, I almost forgot why I came over here. What are you doing Friday night?”

“What I’m usually doing on Friday nights,” Stiles told him. “A whole lot of nothing.”

“Wanna come to my house and order pizza and watch Netflix or something?”

Stiles arched a brow. While they saw each other all the time, their version of hanging out usually meant making out in the back of Derek’s Camaro, or at the park, or behind the bleachers after a game, or in the boiler room after school. But going over to each other’s houses? Well…that was new.

“Er…um…” Stiles stumbled, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Okay, I guess. Yeah. Sounds cool.”

“Really?” Derek’s eyes lit up with excitement, which made Stiles feel so much more at ease. Gagging from Derek’s reaction, it sounded like Derek had really wanted him to say yes, so maybe it wouldn’t be that weird.

Stiles nodded, smirking. “Yeah. Now that I think about it, I haven’t gotten around to asking about your TV tastes yet. It’ll be nice to get a peek at your Recently Watched.”

Derek scrunched his nose. “That’s a terrible innuendo.”

“That’s because it wasn’t an innuendo, you perv!” Stiles punched him in the shoulder.

“We’ll probably have the house to ourselves,” Derek mentioned. “Talia has her usual Friday night séance, and Reuben’s shaman invited him over for song and dance. And my little sister, Cora, won’t be home either. She’s organizing a legalize marijuana protest with a few other kids.”

“Talia and Reuben?” Stiles squinted his eyes.

“Those are my parents. We call them by their first names,” Derek explained. “My family is um…very liberal.”

“Sounds cool,” Stiles said and hummed when Derek kissed him again. “Hey, I thought I told you to scram. Go to practice, dude!”

“I’m going! I’m going!” Derek raised both his hands in the air in surrender then leaned over and dropped a peck on Stiles’ cheek before taking off down the hall.

Stiles watched him go, laughing, then hastily wiped the smile off his face when he heard other stragglers entering the hall. He slung his heavy backpack over his shoulder and began the grueling trek to the detention room to see what misery awaited him inside. However, when he entered the room, he was relieved to see Scott’s smiling face amongst the sea of infidels.

“I see you and Derek are still going at it,” Scott said as Stiles made his way to the back row and flopped down next to him.

Stiles scoffed. “You didn’t even see anything.”

“Hickey.” Scott pointed to a spot on Stiles’ neck.

“Goddammit!” Stiles smacked a hand over it. Looks like he couldn’t yet retire the scarves.

“Hey, you doing anything Friday night?” Scott asked. “If my mom doesn’t totally ground me after detention today by doing the whole ‘No More Stiles’ thing, you should come over and we can watch Netflix and order pizza.”

“Sorry, dude, can’t.” Stiles was getting out his small detention feast, which comprised of a bag of Cheetos, a pack Twizzlers, and a Capri-Sun. Being a delinquent never tasted so good. “I’m doing that with Derek.”

“WHAT?!”

His gaze snapped over to Scott and he furrowed his brows. “Derek invited me over to his house on Friday.”

“To do what?!”

“Order pizza…” Stiles said slower this time so that Scott would get it and wouldn’t interrupt his meal to ask Stiles to repeat himself again. “…And watch Netflix.”

Scott gaped. “What the fuck, dude!”

“What?” Stiles huffed and picked up his bag of cheetos, ripping them open.He couldn’t wait anymore. He hadn’t eaten much at lunch since it was Baked Chicken Tuesday and school cafeteria chicken was the worst. His stomach was growling, his blood sugar was low, and he needed this cheesy goodness.

“I’m your best friend! Why wouldn’t you tell me that you’re planning on losing your virginity this Friday?”

Stiles choked. No he actually choked. A cheeto went down the wrong pipe, lodging itself in his throat, and he pounded on his chest, coughing and hacking to get it out. Because death by artificially powdered orange stick? No, sir. Not today.

“What the hell, Scott,” Stiles wheezed, inhaling and exhaling sharply. “Where in ‘watching Netflix and ordering pizza’ did you get that I’m losing my virginity?”

“How do you still not get Netflix and Chill?!” Scott slapped a palm over his face then thumped his head down onto the desk.

Stiles took a sip of his Capri-Sun, in dire need of a sip after his near-death experience. “Maybe I need a better dictionary, but didn’t you just ask me over for pizza and Netflix. Does that mean you want to have sex with me too?”

“We’re best friends so the rule doesn’t apply. But when I’m with Allison, we never pay attention to the TV. And Derek isn’t your friend. He’s your…”

“Lord Knows,” Stiles supplied helpfully.

“And you and your Lord Knows are going to be laid out horizontally on the couch doing the do on Friday. Congratulations, brother!”

Scott lifted a hand for a high-five but Stiles waved him off dismissively. “That’s so dumb. We’re not doing that.”

“Are you sure?” Scott questioned.

Okay, so maybe he’d been thinking about it a lot lately. And by it, he meant losing his virginity. To Derek. Last year he’d been in such a rush to get rid of it, feeling like he was lagging behind his other classmates, even Scott. But the thing about him and Derek was that he really didn’t know what they were. Making out and sneaking around was fun but Stiles was at a real risk of getting his heart broken here. He knew Derek had already had sex before, with Paige or Kate and whoever. He knew that it wouldn’t be as big of a deal for him as it was for Stiles. But then again, he also really liked Derek and wasn’t able to picture being that way with anyone but him.

“Just make sure you bring condoms.” Scott winked at him. “We wouldn’t want you getting pregnant, right?”

“Ha. Ha.” Stiles rolled his eyes, cursing whoever told Scott that he was even a little bit funny.

*

Stiles spent the rest of the day thinking about sex. Which was really unfortunate when it came time for dinner with his dad later that night. He was being uncharacteristically quiet which was always cause for concern in the Stilinski household. He hadn’t even tried to fight his dad when he ignored the healthy and nutritious Brussel sprouts Stiles had made for him. He knew he should probably start acting chatty before his dad started in on the interrogations and began asking all these deeply personal and probing questions. But there was just so much on his mind.

“You know we can turn the heat up if you’re really that cold,” the Sheriff commented, gesturing towards the Slytherin-themed scarf tightly wound around Stiles’ neck.

“I’m thinking about having sex,” Stiles blurted, cheeks turning red as he stared down at his dinner plate and refused to look up.

“Oh,” the Sheriff said smoothly. “Is that what the scarves are about?”

“I’ve been covering up hickeys.” Stiles chanced a peek at him and tugged off the scarf, exposing the faint bruises littering his neck.

His dad’s eyes widened, mouth falling open. “Who is this girl?”

“Guy.”

The Sheriff snorted disbelievingly at first, rejecting the idea. But when he saw Stiles blinking back at him with a dead serious expression, his face sobered instantly.

“Wait. Really?”

A simple nod from Stiles seemed to settle the issue. His dad sank back in his chair as he soaked that information in then picked up his fork and popped a Brussel sprout into his mouth, blanching. And just like that, the moment passed with no big deals made. Which was awesome. When people asked him later in life how he came out to his dad, it was nice that he had this experience to share.

“What’s his name?” the Sheriff probed.

“Not telling you. Ever,” Stiles replied.

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Since the summer.”

“And you’re ready to…” The Sheriff did something with his hands that didn’t look too representative of sex but more like he was conducting traffic.

“Yeah. I am.”

A corner of the Sheriff’s mouth quirked. “Are you gonna wear the scarves?”

As if now was the time for awful dad jokes.

“Oh my god! Would you forget about the scarf and give me some real pieces of fatherly advice!”

“What do you want from me? The birds and the bees? Do you really want me to have the awkward safe sex talk with you? I know how you like to research things. You’ve probably got that covered”

“Oh. Trust me. I do,” Stiles assured.

“Then all I have to say is that this is one of those things that you won’t know about until you experience it. You know my first time was with your mother and we—”

“Oh no! I don’t think I’ve ever want to hear about this!” Stiles quickly covered his ears.

“Then the only thing I’ve got to say is just be yourself.”

“I could’ve gotten that off the back of a box of Frosted Flakes, Dad!”

“I’m serious. You can’t be passive in something like this. Make sure you and this kid know where you both stand in your relationship and try not to step over each other’s boundaries.”

It was exactly the kind of advice that Stiles had been wanting to hear. Because he didn’t know where his and Derek’s relationship stood or if there was even a relationship between them to begin with. That was something he was going to have to be brave enough to find out. But Stiles was so ready for this. He was sure of that. Like his dad said, he just needed to be himself.

“Can you give me a heads up before it happens?” the Sheriff asked.

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip. “It’s happening this Friday.”

Inhaling deeply, The Sheriff took out his wallet from his pants pocket and pulled out a couple of bills, handing them over to Stiles. “Here,” he said. “To get the stuff on that list you’ve probably already made.”

“It’s not that long of a list,” Stiles told him, counting the bills and finding it to be way too much.

His dad shook his head. “Keep it anyway.”

Stiles smiled and reached out, squeezing his hand, happy that he’d come to his dad for this and that he hadn’t been disappointed. He knew most parents wouldn’t as cool about it but it was nice that his dad respected his choice and trusted Stiles to be safe.

“Well, now I feel so damn old,” the Sheriff whined, picking out the rest of his Brussel sprouts from his plate and pushing them to the side like a toddler. Stiles would indulge him just this once, but tomorrow there would be kale to pay for this. “You’re growing up too fast for me! Stop it!”

Stiles stood and walked around to give the old geezer a tight comforting hug. “Thanks dad. You’re the best.”

*

The week was flying by much faster than Stiles would’ve liked and with Friday quickly approaching, Stiles still had lots to do to prepare. Like, for instance, learning how to properly use a condom. Luckily for him, Coach Finstock would be teaching them how to roll one onto a banana in Health today. But what if Derek’s dick wasn’t banana shaped? Should he try practicing on other household fruits and vegetables just in case?

Being so preoccupied, Stiles had barely even gotten a chance to see a lot of Derek. He’d caught a few glimpses of him in the halls here and there, but they couldn’t acknowledge each other when there were too many people around. Stiles couldn’t lie; he was starting to miss him. Maybe he’d try tracking Derek down after Health. That is if he ever made it to Health because, like always, he was running super late to class.

Stiles sprinted down the empty halls, perilously close to tripping over his loose shoelaces, and veered around a corner with Coach Finstock’s room very much in sight. He paused to catch his breath, taking deep puffs of air in and out of his lungs, but before he could start jogging again, he was suddenly accosted.

“Holy shit!” Stiles squawked as Derek yanked him into an empty classroom. “What the fuck, dude! I thought I was being kidnapped!”

“You are.” Derek’s lips crashed down onto his and he crowded Stiles back against the door. “Wanna skip this period?”

“C—Can’t,” Stiles panted, shuddering as Derek’s teeth ran along his collarbone. “I’m late to Health and I don’t want to fall behind.”

“Coach won’t fail you,” Derek said and dropped a kiss on Stiles’ lips again before pulling away with a smirk. “And neither will I. Have a seat, Mr. Stilinski. Let’s go over today’s lesson.”

Snickering, Stiles walked over to a desk and sat, folding his hands in his lap and watching Derek attentively like the perfect student that he was.

Derek stood in front of the board and pulled down the world map. Picking up a wooden pointer, he cleared his throat and began indicating at random countries as he recited, “Sons of Scottland! I am William Wallace! He kills men by the hundreds. And if he were here, he’d consume the English with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his arse!”

“Oh my god.” Stiles pressed a hand over his eyes, marveling at Derek’s perfect rendition of Coach Finstock. He was rather curious as to how Derek had managed to memorize all the lines from Braveheart.

“I see a whole army of my countrymen, here in defiance of tyranny! You’ve come to fight as free men and free men you are! What will you do with that freedom? Will you fight?”

“Please stop,” Stiles begged, unable to withstand such a high quantity of dorkiness. He smiled fondly as Derek rolled the map back up and picked up a piece of chalk to write on the board. “You know, you should never become a teacher. You’re so hot, everyone would be too distracted to pay attention.”

“Good thing I’m going to be an architect,” Derek told him as he drew a heart with their initials.

“What are you doing? You can’t draw that!”

“Why not?” Derek paused, looking over at him with a deep frown.

“Because!” Stiles huffed.

He stood and walked over, hastily grabbing an eraser and thoroughly buffing out any evidence of them ever being there. Derek should know better than to be so reckless. This was not the time to be risking exposure.

“Um…” Stiles chewed on his bottom lip as Derek peered closely at him. “I’ve really got to get to class and hit the books. I’ve got this project thing that’s worth most of my final grade.”

“Okay,” Derek said, although his face was marked with displeasure. “I’ll see you after school, then.”

“No, I don’t have detention today.”

“But you always have detention.”

“I’ve been on my best behavior lately.”

Derek snorted. “Even your best behavior isn’t good behavior.”

“Yeah, well, my thing,” Stiles said looking up at the clock. If he didn’t hustle, he was going to miss his only chance to wrestle a latex condom around a botanical fruit in the name of Beacon Hills High School’s stellar sexual education curriculum.

“Right, the thing…” Derek murmured.

“Yeah…” Stiles fidgeted, waiting on Derek to say something so that they weren’t just standing there looking at each other awkwardly. But Derek wouldn’t throw him a bone.

“Err…Okay…” Stiles waved and tripped backwards towards the door in a hurry. “Gotta go now. Bye!”

*

It was weird, but after that uncomfortable situation in the classroom, Stiles didn’t really hear much from Derek over the next couple of days. Which was definitely worrying. Derek said he was fine over text but Stiles could tell something was off. In fact, Stiles had been pretty pessimistic about the whole thing, positive Derek would cancel on him until he got a text from Derek on Friday after school with an address.

Rolling up to Derek’s place later that night in his jeep, Stiles was surprised to discover that Derek lived out in the middle of the woods. The area was isolated but it was quiet and peaceful and one could really connect with nature out there. But for Stiles who basically hated nature and its bugs the short walk from his car to the porch had him on high alert and scared for his life.

Nervously, Stiles rang Derek’s doorbell, eyes swinging around his surroundings in case an animal hopped out to attack him. He rang the bell again and shot Derek a text when a while had passed with no sign of anyone coming to answer the door. His hopes started getting crushed as more time passed with him standing out there alone in the dark. Maybe Derek just wasn’t home yet, or maybe he’d forgotten, or decided to ditch their plans last minute.

Regardless, Stiles wasn’t about to stand on Derek’s door step looking pathetic all night. With a dejected sigh, he turned to start down the stairs but froze when he heard odd rustling coming from a bush. This was the perfect place for a murder. It was so deserted out there that no one would hear his screams. But that didn’t stop Stiles from shrieking his fucking head off when something roared and sprang out from the bushes.

“Jesus Christ, Derek! What the fuck is the matter with you!!”

“Fuck yes!!!” Derek cackled and pumped a fist in the air victoriously. “I’ve been hiding in there for half an hour waiting to do that!”

“Why can’t you just say hello like a civilized being?” Stiles scowled.

Derek smirked, tugging Stiles towards him and planting a kiss on his mouth. “Hello, and welcome to my humble abode. By the way, there’s a giant spider on your shoulder.”

And for the second time that night, Stiles was shrieking at the top of his lungs. Derek, the asshole, didn’t even try to help him. He just disappeared through the front door, leaving Stiles to flail around in panic by himself. Stiles bravely flicked the spider off and followed Derek into the house quickly before he was subjected to another wilderness attacks.

Once safely inside, Stiles toed off his shoes and handed Derek his jacket, hesitantly looking around. Derek’s home was certainly not the traditional kind that Stiles had been expecting. A few words to describe the decor was trippy, psychedelic, and 1960’s bohemian. There were tons of vibrant colors, eclectic art, and beautiful tapestries.

Derek took his hand, lacing their fingers together, and led them into the living room. He had a mischievous smile on his face that instantly made Stiles suspicious. But all Stiles needed to do was walk into the room to understand why, and he immediately busted out laughing.

“Dude! You built a fort?!” Stiles’ jaw actually dropped.

“I told you! I want to be an architect!”

“Well, it’s very well made.” Stiles grinned, admiring the structure of the epic blanket fort Derek had built and decorated with lots of pillows and pretty string lights.

“Want a tour of the rest of the house?” Derek asked him.

“Sure!”

Stiles was curious if Derek had ever invited other people from school to his house and shown them all the hippie stuff his family was into. Not that Derek should be embarrassed of his family. Like at all. They raised chickens and grew their own organic vegetables, pushed to legalize marijuana and had no qualms about nudity. They also had an impressive compost pile and were clearly determined to save the planet. It sounded like an awesome way to grow up, and more importantly, Stiles was glad that Derek was sharing and that he was getting to see this other side of him.

“And this is my stash,” Derek said as they settled again under the fort in the living room. He shoved a large duffle bag that had the Beacon Hills High logo on it towards Stiles. “Talia has us on a strict raw food diet since before I can even remember. No processed foods allowed in the house ever. I can eat whatever I want outside but I’m still a vegetarian. I just have a rotten sweet tooth which means I have to sneak snacks into this hell hole. Now, I don’t share this with just anyone, so know that means you’re special.”

His entire face flushed in slight embarrassment. Honestly, he didn’t need buttering up. He was an easy lay and would put out without the sweet talk. Gripping a fistful of Derek’s sweatshirt, Stiles practically hauled him in, clambering into his lap and straddling his hips. He gave a rather instigating kiss, not wanting to beat around the bush about what they were there for.

Derek seemed super into it at first, returning Stiles’ kiss with fervor, trailing his hands along Stiles’ side, and releasing deep rumbles from his chest. But then he pulled away and plopped Stiles off to the side which was the total opposite of what Stiles wanted. This was definitely throwing a wrench in his plans.

“So, what do you want to watch?” Derek asked, glancing at Stiles expectantly as he grabbed his laptop and logged into Netflix.

Seemed like Derek was playing hard to get. Either that or he was purposely being obtuse. They ended up watching the pilot of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Derek had never seen it before and Stiles loved introducing people to his favorite shows, living vicariously through them upon their first viewing. He’d definitely consider it a kink and was having way too much fun observing Derek’s reactions.

Once they were finished with that, Stiles went through some other shows Derek typically watched. It was mainly procedural dramas; boring stuff like CSI, Law & Order, and House. Stiles ribbed Derek about his ‘guilty pleasure’ of watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriends for ten whole minutes but after being forced to watch the first episode, Stiles was instantly hooked himself.

However, when Derek decided to let the second episode play, Stiles had to admit he was a little confused.

While it was fun just lying there munching on Derek’s super-secret snacks and introducing each other to new TV shows, he couldn’t help but wonder when they were finally going to ditch the clothes and fast-forward to the naked sexy times. Fed up with waiting, he scooted closer to Derek, awkwardly placing a hand on his knee hoping that Derek, the only one with experience in this department here, would get the hint and pioneer this ship. Oh captain, my captain!

Not surprisingly, the good old, trusty hand-on-the-thigh-trick worked. Derek paused the show and leaned in, placing the lightest of kisses onto Stiles’ lips with a bright smile. Then he turned his attention back to the computer, paying Stiles’ horniness no mind and doing nothing else.

Stiles wiped his sweaty palms against the legs of his jeans. He wasn’t sure what to do now. In all his detailed preparations, he never consulted a how-to guide on ways to subtly signal that you were totally down for sex. He knew Derek wasn’t asexual; they’d talked about it once. Maybe he just didn’t find Stiles hot. Which was a bummer because Stiles was insanely attracted to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles snapped his eyes up from where he’d been fiddling his fingers in his lap. He pasted on a chipper smile and rapidly said, “Nothing.”

The lines on Derek’s forehead creased and he paused the show again, readjusting himself to get a better look at Stiles straightforward. “You mean, you’ve been acting weird all week because of nothing?”

“No.” Stiles stammered, unsure of what to say. “Yes?”

Derek’s face darkened and Stiles felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. God, this was all his fault. Why was he so damn awkward!

“C’mon. Let’s watch something else,” he tried and reached for the computer, but before he could, Derek was snapping it shut.

Stiles cringed internally as tensions mounted in the room. He couldn’t believe how badly he was messing this up. Did he really need to spill his dumb feelings all over the place and ruin everything? He had no idea what to say to fix this. How to make things go back to normal. All he could do now was prepare himself for whatever came next.

“You know…” Derek started with an unhappy sigh. “You can tell me if you don’t want to keep doing this. If you’re not that into me anymore or if it’s gotten too boring. I can take it.”

“W—What do you mean?” Stiles struggled to find his voice. “I— I don’t— Why would you think—I…I—”

“Well, you’re obviously embarrassed of me,” Derek stated. “I get it. I’m a dumb jock and you don’t want to be seen around me because of all your smart friend. It’s why we have to do all this sneaking around and why you never want anyone to see us at school. But Stiles, I can’t help that I’m popular and captain of the basketball team.”

“Woah, wait a minute…” Stiles stood up, clenching his jaw. “I’m the one that never wants us to be seen? I’m the one that’s too embarrassed to introduce you to my friends? Oh, that’s fucking rich! Because I’m always pulling you into empty classrooms and walking right past you in halls! And I’m definitely the one that invited you over here to ‘hang out and watch Netflix’ when I actually meant sex!”

How dare Derek try to make it seem like this was what Stiles wanted. “You know what, I’m so out of here! I really thought I wanted my first time to be with you, but clearly, we’re not on the same page. So let me spell it out for you. I want a relationship thing, not a fuck buddies thing! I’m sorry but I can’t be your dirty little secret anymore!”

Without looking back, Stiles stormed off towards the front door and hastily collected his things. He searched all his pockets for his car keys and jammed his feet into his shoes. He was determined not to get emotional in front of Derek. He wanted to go out like a badass.

Stiles twisted the knob to the front door and opened it, but before he could leave, Derek skidded into the foyer, his socks slippery against the hardwood floor, and slammed it closed.

The bastard grinned as he tried to pulled Stiles against him, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and holding him tightly. “Hey, Stiles,” he chuckled. “Did we just have our first fight?”

“Let go of me, asswipe!” Stiles cried, shoving him off. He didn’t want Derek’s and his douchiness touching him right now. “You’re a fuckboy.”

“If you say so.” Derek shrugged and peered at Stiles inquisitively. “Where’d you get the idea that I only invited you over here tonight to have sex with you?”

Stiles dropped his gaze down to his shoes and he mumbled, “Scott said—”

Derek scoffed. “You still listen to Scott?”

“Yes he’s my best friend,” Stiles defended.

“He’s also a moron!” Derek heaved. “You’ve should’ve just come and talked to me first because Scott doesn’t know anything. We’re already in a ‘relationship thing’, Stiles. Or at least, I thought so…”

Stiles peeked up at Derek then, chewing on his bottom lip. Right away, Derek took that as a good sign and stepped closer, taking advantage of the small window, and pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead.

“I wouldn’t have invited you over if you weren’t important to me. I never invite anyone over because my parents are deranged, but I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend. I like spending time with him even though he talks too much for it to be normal and we should definitely get his head checked.”

Derek tapped his temple and laughed when Stiles swatted his hand away. His emotions had betrayed him and he felt his anger thawing, now being replaced by silly butterflies in his stomach at the mention of the word boyfriend. Giving up the act, he buried his face into Derek’s neck and clung to him now that all was forgiven.

Derek cleared his throat, murmuring into Stiles’ ear, “I’d be lying if I said sex hasn’t crossed my mind…You’re kind of gorgeous. But it’s not the most important thing right now and only when you’re ready.”

Stiles shuffled even closer and nuzzling deeper into Derek’s neck, immensely pleased when Derek’s arms locked around him. Not a lot of people got to say they had first boyfriends like Derek. Sweet, cuddly, pretty boys that built cute forts and watched romantic musical comedy dramas and were completely oblivious to blatant signs of wanting to initiate sex. But Stiles would never take this for granted.

“I wouldn’t play with your feelings or send you coded messages. So when I invite you over to watch Netflix, it’s because I really just want to watch Netflix with you. So…say something.”

Stiles lifted his head and stared into Derek’s breathtaking rainbow eyes. Inhaling deeply, he confessed, “All I’ve been thinking about this week is your dick.”

Derek fought a smirk. “Oh?

“And doing things to you that would probably get me arrested.”

“I won’t call the sheriff if you won’t.” Derek winked.

Stiles snickered, fluttering his lashes coyly. “How long do we have until your parents get back?”

“Séances can be lengthy,” Derek quipped. “Spirits are hard to get a hold of.”

“Good.” Stiles grinned and leaned in, humming happily when he pressed his lips to Derek’s once more. “That gives us plenty of time.”

When people asked him later in life how he’d lost his virginity, it was nice that he could say, “Under a blanket fort in Derek Hale’s living room while his parents were out. He’d tell them that it wasn’t weird or awkward at all. That Derek had shown him exactly what to do and had made him feel really good. That he knew he was loved. Special. And most importantly, that he’d followed his dad’s advice and hadn’t been passive in this. He knew where they booth stood and knew they had a promising future together.

“Oh my god! I did it! I finally did it! I cannot believe this! Dude, I just had sex!!”

“Yes, Stiles, I’m aware,” Derek said dryly as he balled Stiles’ shirt up and tossed it over to him, whacking him in the face. “I was there, remember? You didn’t do this alone.”

“Shh!” Stiles chided as he finished buttoning his pants, pulling the shirt over his head. “This is about me right now. Don’t ruin this for me!”

“Oh, Derek, honey suckle,” A sweet feminine voice called out. It was a lovely voice, so homely and nurturing and, motherly…and shit that must mean Derek’s parents were back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was in no way the circumstance that Stiles had wished to meet his very first boyfriend’s parents in. Especially not after they’d…Fuck! Stiles scrambled back into the fort, frantically checking that he’d dressed himself okay and that nothing was on backwards or unzipped. He was pretty sure that most parents had x-ray vision. At least his dad did which was why Stiles could never get away with anything. What if Derek’s parents saw the sex on him or something and it ruined his chances forever to make a good first impression.

Stiles didn’t take a single breath the entire time they heard the footsteps approaching the entrance of the fort. Then he realized foolishly that while he was dressed perfectly fine, Derek had yet to put a shirt on. He was just about to say something to Derek, groping around for where Derek’s shirt could be when Derek just rolled out from under the fort and stood up to greet his parents half-fucking-naked.

It wouldn’t take much for Derek’s parents to put two-and-two together if Stiles got out of the fort now so he resigned himself to living there in hiding forever. Fucking Derek. Why did he have to be so brazen.

“Talia,” he heard Derek greeting his mother which, yeah, was a little weird. Stiles knew he could never his dad onboard with the whole calling your parents by their first names thing.

“What’s this, Derek?” Talia asked, her voice so whimsical and airy. “How lovely! I see you’ve been letting out your inner creative!”

He heard Derek snort before asking, “How was the séance?”

“Marvelous. Grandma Leanabel says hello,” Talia told him. “She wants us to bring you next time to talk about your love life. She said there’s a person you’ve been seeing in secret. Is that true?”

Of course, Stiles could not contain his gasp upon hearing that Derek’s maternal grandmother knew about their secret relationship. That was some really freaky paranormal shit and one could not blame him for being unable to hide his shock in the face of it. Unfortunately, that tiny, quiet, not at all dramatic gasp seemed to have given away Stiles’ exact location. Abort, Abort, Abort.

“Do you have someone here?” He heard another voice say, one that was much deeper than Derek’s, so he assumed was Derek’s father.

“No, Reuben” Derek said, barely putting any effort into the lie so of course his parents became skeptical.

“Who are you hiding in your little teepee, Derek?” Talia asked. When Derek didn’t respond, she demanded, “Get them out right now.”

Derek huffed, crouching down to the entrance of the fort to give Stiles a reassuring smile, coaxing him out of hiding like he was a scared animal. “It’s okay. They don’t care about anything normal parents should care about.”

Stiles took a deep breath in then exhaled, rolling out from under the fort and getting up on wobbly knees. He held his hand out blindly for a handshake, face burning as he stared down at the floor trying his best to mind his manners even though he honestly didn’t have any. “Uh hi… Mrs. Hale…Mr. Hale.”

Even though Derek had expressed to him multiple times that his parents were real-life hippies, Stiles hadn’t quite believed him up until this point. And now that he was seeing it for himself, he understood that there had been no exaggeration on Derek’s part. That his parents were most definitely eccentric.

One thing that came as a shock was just how much Derek looked like his mother, possessing her beautiful hazel eyes and gypsy-like features. Truthfully, she didn’t even look like she could be a mom, so youthful in her appearance. Derek’s father must be a very handsome man to have landed such a gorgeous wife. Although, Stiles wasn’t 100% sure of that because he couldn’t actually see much of Reuben Hale’s face. His long, shaggy light-brown hair and bushy beard covered everything and he looked like a giant hairball with super white teeth. Maybe Talia had fallen in love with his snappy fashion sense because he was definitely rocking those floral bellbottoms.

“No need to be so formal here, love,” Talia said, stepping forward and taking Stiles’ hand between her own. “It’s just Talia and Reuben. And you are?”

“Stiles,” he offered nervously, prepared to give his usual speech for the meaning behind his bizarre nickname.

Talia gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, my, what a wonderfully original and creative name!!”

“Indeed!” Reuben chimed in, stroking his overgrown beard.

All in all, Derek’s parents were ridiculously nice people. Too nice even for the situation at hand. Stiles was just so relieved that Derek’s parents didn’t automatically hate him that he started rambling as they made small talk. Unlike most of the people who’ve ever had to endure Stiles’ ramblings, Talia and Reuben didn’t seem to mind, giving no signs that they were annoyed or wanting him to shut up and showing a real interest in Stiles and inquiring to know more about him.

They did as much small-talking as they could do before they reached the giant elephant in the room. Talia and Reuben wanted to know more about him and Derek. How they met. When they first knew they liked each other. Etc. etc.

A mortified blush crept up Stiles’ neck the more they asked and Talia grasped Stiles’ hand, saying, “Don’t be embarrassed, moon child. Making love is a natural and beautiful act that has only been derided by society and its ridiculous archaic definitions of the term ‘immorality.’ Not only does the word ‘virginity’ commodify individuals and deems them as damaged goods, but it also perpetuates a heteronormative myth that a penis must enter a vagina, which completely erases the experiences of queer and trans folk. I had hoped that there’d be more progressive teachings on this subject in schools but apparently not.”

She let go of Stiles’ hand with a gentle squeeze, flashing a receptive smile. “Basically, what I’m trying to say dear, is that it’s a load of bullshit. So, stop thinking about it so much.”

“Oh…um…cool,” Stiles spluttered, looking over at Derek just in time to catch him laughing at Stiles’ stunned response. Stiles couldn’t help it. The world would be a much better place if Talia Hale was president and all followed her wisdom.

Reuben asked, “So, did the two of you use protection? We wouldn’t want Stiles here getting pregnant, now would we?”

“Ha Ha. You’re so funny, Reuben,” Derek intoned dryly, rolling his eyes as Reuben laughed boisterously. It seemed hippie dads weren’t immune to awful dad jokes either. “Anyway, Stiles is going home now.”

“What! Why?” Talia frowned.

“Because I’m embarrassed of you guys and I don’t want you scarring him away,” Derek told them as he swiftly ushered Stiles towards the exit who stumbled ungracefully over his own feet.

“Oh, that again!” Talia scoffed. “Really, dear, when will you get over this. At least let me give him one of my handmade dreamcatchers! Wait right there!”

Derek dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stiles had to smile a little at how easily frustrated Derek got with his way laid back and chill parents. He was feeling very honored that Derek had given him the chance to meet them and would definitely be getting Talia to show him all of Derek’s embarrassing baby pictures the next time he was over.

“Derek Andrew Hale!!” Talia called sharply from the other room.

Andrew. Derek’s middle name was Andrew. That was so cute! Derek didn’t seem to find it very cute though because as soon as he heard it, he immediately paled.

Talia came marching into the room again with the dreamcatcher and something else in her hand. She held it up to Derek, revealing his Beacon Hills duffle bag, and shouted, “What is all this, Derek! Have you been eating these poisonous treats? Candy?! Chips?! Have you not read of all the harmful artificial preservatives you are ingesting into your young sprouting body?!”

“Ugh, Talia!” Derek groaned, reaching for the duffle bag and scowling when she kept it away.

Talia looked over her shoulder and asked, “Reuben, what is it that those parents do in the movies where they lock their kids in their room for two weeks?”

“I’m not quite sure, dear,” Reuben said, tugging at his beard in thought. “I believe it’s called being grounded.”

“Yes, that!” Talia swung back to Derek, poking him in the chest with a stern finger. “That’s what you are, young man! Grounded! I’ll be discarding all of these!”

Turning to Stiles, Talia’s face melted into a bright and pleasant smile as she handed him his dreamcatcher and wrapped him up in a big hug. “So lovely meeting you, Stiles. Come back anytime you’d like.”

“Don’t worry, son,” Reuben whispered as Talia marched back out the room, giving Derek a comforting pat on the shoulder before following after his wife. “I’ll sneak them away when she’s not looking. I’ve just been dying for a Reese’s Pieces!!”

Once his parents were gone, Derek immediately took Stiles’ hand and physically dragged him out the house, likely with the purpose of keeping Stiles far, far away from his crazy hippie family. The front door swung shut hastily behind them and they both paused for a moment on the porch to take a deep breath and look up at the sky.

It’d been quite the eventful evening. One Stiles was sure to remember. And amidst all the nerves, confusion, and craziness, Stiles was pretty happy with how it turned out, wondering if Derek thought the same. He slipped closer to Derek who was glaring up at the sky, an agitated line formed between his brows, and decided to kiss that frown right off his face. Derek made no protests to this method and just pulled Stiles even closer, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” Stiles murmured, fidgeting with his dreamcatcher as he leaned his forehead against Derek’s.

“It’s fine. She’ll probably forget what being grounded means again anyways so it’s not really affecting me.” Derek huffed. “I’ve just never seen her that mad.”

Stiles threw back his head and laughed loudly, gazing at Derek incredulously. “That was her mad? My Dad is ten times worse!” Stiles reneged, “Not that you’ll meet him. Ever.”

“No fair. You meet my insane parents. I get to meet your dad.”

“Fine,” Stiles sighed, not at all looking forward to it and, if Derek knew any better, he wouldn’t be looking forward to it either. “But be prepared for a tough interrogation and a light frisking.”

Derek smiled widely, leaning in for another kiss even though he knew Stiles needed to be getting into his car and racing back home to make curfew. He groaned, letting himself get lost in it for a bit before pulling away to be the responsible one. Derek followed him down the steps to the Jeep to say goodbye and when Stiles got in and started the car, Derek tapped on the window, indicating for Stiles to roll it down.

“Hey, on Monday, if I see you in the hallway and kiss you hello, is that okay?” Derek asked over the loud engine, leaning in through the window.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he clicked his seatbelt in. “Yes. That’s totally fine.”

“You won’t be embarrassed to be seen with a dumb jock?” Derek raised a brow.

“Maybe a little bit. This could seriously ruin my reputation, you know,” Stiles teased. “What about you? You embarrassed to be seen with a huge dork?”

“Nope. Never.” Derek said then cleared his throat to project his stern teacher voice. “I’ll see you Monday, Mr. Stilinski. And don’t be late, or detention for at least a year.”

*

Monday morning at school wasn’t different from any other Monday morning at school, only now their big secret was out. Stiles couldn’t even begin to explain how unbelievably good it felt to finally be able to make out with Derek in the halls without having to worry about who was around to see them. Sneaking around had been fun for a while but Stiles was more than ready to have them out in the open.

It was all so foreign at first. When Derek had tried to kiss Stiles hello in front of his friends, Stiles had almost punched him away out of old habit. But by mid-afternoon, they’d gotten the hang of it, at least enough to pressed up against Derek’s locker making out in a crowded hallway with their minds completely blank. They were able to take their time, move slow and unhurried instead of the anxious frenzied stolen kisses that they’d had before. It was bliss.

There was one downside to this new way of living, however. How the hell were they supposed to stop? Before, any random stranger walking by was an alarm to separate and scattering away from each other like headless chickens. But they no longer had to pay any mind to those concerns, so who’s to say that they couldn’t just lean up against Derek’s locker and make out all the livelong day? No one, that’s who.

“Stilinski! Hale! Break it up you two!” Coach Finstock hollered down the hall into a megaphone, causing them both to startle badly and jump apart.

Ah, so Coach Finstock had some usefulness after all.

“Too much of that can be a bad thing, you know!” Finstock shouted again into the megaphone as they gathered their things and headed off to class holding hands. “I’m just saying use proper precautions! We wouldn’t want Stilinski getting pregnant now, would we?!”

Nope, definitely.  Wouldn’t want that.

[insearchofanexit]

Hey!! I didn't catch the # for this one but there was a cute au in the disabled aus thing and it was about meeting because they see each other cause of chemo?? Thanks!!!! I love your writing and you seem like a soft person

Writing about cancer is generally on my no-no list for reasons (I can’t believe it’s not in my FAQ??? What is wrong with me…), but…this honestly is such a cute prompt and I know I can make it not-sad so I’m gonna challenge myself. I can do this! Also oh my gosh??? I seem soft really? This is baffling to me! I don’t feel very soft but now I’m like *grins stupidly* You didn’t list a pairing so I’m gonna pic something that I know will be comfortable for me considering this is a bit of a tender spot.

We get chemo on the same schedule and we’ve never talked but I see you all the time and ur really cute.

It’s Thursday and Yoongi’s trying very hard to keep his eyeliner straight. Which is honestly tough as fuck considering he’s hella shaky. Side effect of one pill or another, honestly who keeps track at this point.

Well. He should. But that’s beside the point.

The point is it’s Thursday and he’s trying to do his makeup and he feels a lot like a semitruck smashed into him but he fucking refuses to look it. Thursday is treatment day. Thursday is Hoseok.

It’s stupid, really, to try and look nice for a guy he’s never spoken to, but…This will be the day it happens. He’s going to say something to Hoseok and they’re going to become friends and maybe something more and it’s going to be nice. He grabs his black beanie and shoves it on, adjusting it before smiling some. Nice. Definitely.

His mother’s saying stuff to him during the drive but he’s not paying attention. It’s more important to decide what he’s going to say to Hoseok in his head.

So how long you got? Too morbid.

What’re you in for? Too cheesy.

Come here often? Definitely too cheesy.

He sighs and props his head against the window. Okay, so there’s a good chance this will be another Thursday fail. Goddammit.

Thursdays are sort of busy, but not in an overwhelming way. The waiting area is half full already and it’s not very far past 8am. He sees lots of these faces all the time, smiles and nods towards them, then sits to wait his turn. It’s not very far past 8am and in probably about five minutes, Hoseok will show up. He’ll sit down near Yoongi, play with his phone for a while, get up to go get his treatment. They’ve smiled at each other a few times but that’s all. Yoongi wants so much more. He gives himself a quick look over with his phone’s front camera.

This particular Thursday, Hoseok looks…tired. Well. They all look tired, other than the new faces, the ones just starting, but…Hoseok’s never let that tiredness show. But today he isn’t very smiley and his face looks drawn and his shoulders droop. He plops down into the seat beside Yoongi without seeming to notice Yoongi’s even there at all. Yoongi tries not to stare.

“Um. H-Hos–”

“I’m fine,” Hoseok cuts him off, could probably actually cut him with the sharpness to his tone. It throws Yoongi off. Hoseok sighs. Drags his hands through his hair and holds them there for a moment. “Sorry. Sorry you were about to ask what’s wrong, right? I’m so fucking sick of that question.”

“…I was just gonna say good morning, but okay.” Hoseok’s mouth turns even further downward. “Your name’s Hoseok, right? I’m Yoon–”

“I know,” Hoseok says. “Min Yoongi. I, too, can hear the nurses calling.”

“This is not how I envisioned this going,” Yoongi laughs some. “You’re actually kind of a dick.”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen if you think you’re the only one suffering in this cancer treatment facility,” Yoongi says the words slowly, deliberately, “then you’ve gotta be the densest motherfucker alive, dude. I just wanted to say good morning, you’re cute, but fuck, now I don’t even want to.”

Yoongi focuses on his phone instead. The nerve of this dick. And now he’s wearing eyeliner for no fucking reason because god knows the nurses aren’t people he wants to impress. Shit now he’s mad he even wanted to impress Hoseok. He reaches up to try and rub some of his makeup away.

“You think I’m cute?” Hoseok says after a while.

“That’s all you got from what I said?”

“No but it’s definitely one of the more important points.” Yoongi looks over and, okay, Hoseok smiling makes his heart do the thing again. His heart clearly did not get the ‘we’re mad’ memo from his brain. “I’m sorry. It’s been…a really bad week. I mean every week’s bad at this point but this was…especially bad, whatever anyways um…Good morning, you’re cute, too.”

[volleyboys-imagines]

Um, this ask is a bit difficult maybe, but could you do headcanons/imagines of how to captains are falling in love? Like, do they confess immediately or do they keep pining for five years? Do they tell all their friends about every detail or are they the type that would die if someone found out he has a crush? Can he pull of a normal conversation with his crush or is he a stuttering mess? I'm so sorry for requesting smth like this please forgive my sins

oh no anon, you’re not sorry :

yes this ask is a bit difficult; most of the time it depends on the person they’ll fall in love with, sadly. I don’t know what other people’s headcanons on these boys are, but here’s whatever I have in my head :) ||

I think that Daichi wouldn’t really know it until it’s too late, and it hits him like a ton of bricks. Like this girl is someone that just fit herself into his life and he really hasn’t noticed that he’s fit her into a lot of his activities until now. He’ll call up Asahi or Suga for some advice because the realization’s way too much for him to handle because man does he finally know why he likes this person so much and it’s just. so. bad. He wouldn’t confess immediately because he’s afraid that the feeling wouldn’t be mutual because he can name a few other captains that are so much better than him in other places. He’s not as smart as Kuroo, as handsome as Oikawa, as serious as Ushijima, or as carefree as Bokuto. Because of this, he’ll probably pine for some time until someone (most likely Sugawara) pushes him out of his comfort zone and confesses. He’ll be a stuttering mess because he doesn’t want to be rejected and embarrassed and everything else that runs through your head when you try to confess to someone you really like. Does she like the flowers? Should he have given chocolates instead? Do I look good enough in this suit? He’ll probably have a nervous breakdown, and it’s up to his girlfriend to iron out the kinks in his confidence.

As I write this I realize I don’t have a good enough cliché headcanon for Oikawa. I’ve visualized him more as the kind of guy that is and isn’t looking for a romantic kind of love; he’s kind of confused. He wants a romantic kind of love because it’s the most common form, especially in movies and books. It’s the ideal form of a relationship that two people form a bond. He wants to be there to cuddle and take care of his girlfriend, take her out on dates and give her flowers, and be there for her forever. But it doesn’t always work that way, since he’s more or less married to volleyball. So how does make time and effort for his girlfriend? The answer is that he doesn’t. He’s also not looking for the romantic relationship because it’s already failed once (remember his ex in canon? yes that one). Instead, he’s looking for someone out there that can not only deal with his idiosyncrasies, but also share them. Because of this, he’ll likely fall in love with someone that’s been with him every step of the way, through the ups and downs, having her loyalty and trust tried and tested. He’s the kind of guy that will realize this sooner or later, and she’ll be the only answer to all of the questions on who he should have by his side for the rest of his life. For the person that sticks with him through all of the hurdles in life, he won’t hesitate to buy that person a ring, get down on one knee in front of the crowd and ask, “Will you be mine?”

Kuroo’s always falling for girls left and right. He doesn’t know why he falls easy. He’s found long-haired girls, short-haired girls, tall girls, short girls, thin girls, fluffy girls and usually, the feeling isn’t mutual; he thinks it’s because he looks like a bad boy. The pining lasts about…three months. It’s that fast. He doesn’t really have a set of special characteristics for a future girlfriend, be it physical or personal, because he’s got this theory in his head that, whoever has these characteristics will also have a unique ‘taste’ because of their other qualities. He’s looking for this kind of girl whose unique combination, fitted with his, creates a power dynamic. He doesn’t keep it to himself, does the ‘oh my friend likes this girl’ but everyone sees riiiight through it. He’d look way too pale if someone actually mentioned this crush of his. Unlike Oikawa and Daichi, Kuroo is somehow knows he’s falling in love with this person. Like he catches himself noticing the little things about his crush. He’ll make an effort to see if he has a chance with her (casually asking her out, dropping hints, etc.), and if he feels that the feeling isn’t mutual, he’ll stop. If he knows that she’s got her eye on him however, he’ll go in for the kill and confess. The actual confession is sappy and cheesy, with a lot of pick up lines and cheesy comparisons (”You know, you’re like a flower…pretty and cute. You know what would go well with flowers? Chocolates.” “Of course.” “…oh am I not chocolate? Not sweet enough for you? *presents chocolates*”) because it’s Kuroo for godsakes. Confessing is probaby like, at whatever time of the day the s/o likes best (dawn, midday, afternoon, sunset, night [under the moon and the stars??]), and after doing something (watching the sunrise/sunset, breakfast at the café, whatever) he’ll go and take their hands and be like, “I know we’ve been friends for the last x months/years, and *swallow* and I’d like you to know that I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I really don’t want to stay as friends.” “*S/O’S HEART DROPS* W-what…? But we’ve been together—” “*DEEP BREATHS* That’s why I want you to be my s/o instead.” OHHH GODDAMMIT and Kenma and Yaku and Kai would be there tryna film that (not Lev because he’ll still pop out with “KUROO-SAN AKIRAMERUNA”) omigod

I think Ushijima would be the same as Oikawa: he wouldn’t really ‘fall in love’ with someone as romantically cliché as possible, but only because it’s his nature. The only problem is that Ushijima will choose an s/o that is directly contributing to his life. Not with love or anything, but a partner that makes the most sense having in his life. Love as we know it is out of the question. So it takes years, I think, and everyone else is just waiting for Ushijima to pop the question because fuck they’ve been around since whenever and Ushiwaka brings them wherever he goes and they’ve been super attuned to all his habits and quirks and nonexistent facial expressions that you can cut the sexual tension with a knife. So yeeah it’s not really as exciting with Ushiwaka, but super fulfilling when he confesses with a ‘romantic dinner’.

Bokuto falling in love? I think the best way to describe it is that his friends (and his s/o!) would all know it before he would because it’s so. damn. o b v i o u s. It’s not enough that he’s loud, but his PDA game is so…PDA. It just is. If he sees them in the morning before class he’s going to come running and bear hugs and lifts and twirls around; the only things left are the kisses. He’s going to walk them to class and chat with them all the way until he has to go because his class is on the other end of campus and he’s gotta run for it or he’ll be late! He’ll text them to meet up for lunch and when you do meet up he’s going to treat them for lunch. During weekends he’ll take some time out from partying just to spend time with them, so takeout + Disney movies + pillow forts on Fridays. If the conversation turns to his crush, he’ll immediately start denying the hell out of it. Confessing? He’ll strut outside in his best suit, the black one, with a bouquet of the favorite flowers, and text his s/o so he could meet them and, if it’s in class, he wouldn’t care if the professor is in there he’ll just fucken barge in there and just go through with it because what the heck does he have to lose. Now people know that classroom is lucky for love. :>

Terushima falling in love is just like…falling into bed after a long day. Getting into a warm bath. Chicken soup when you’re sick. Basically Teru falling in love makes him warmer, more comfortable with that someone. Sure he talks to people, but nobody really knows a damn thing about the partyboy. He opens up to his s/o like nobody else before, and when he catces himself telling this person his secrets he’ll ask himself ‘why the hell am I telling this to them??’ The answer will always elude him until he just. gets it. He likes this person enough to open up to them, to trust them with the things that he’s kept to himself for a long time and it feels like falling into bed after a long day. The weight in his heart is gone, and he feels like a free man. And when he sees them the next day his heart just does a tiny little skip and he smiles. Nobody knows about this, but he’ll feel proud that he’s found someone if his friends just seem to know. He’ll get that little smile on his face that woudld creep anyone out because the cool kid’s finally smiling so softly that it just can’t be romantic at all. Confessing would be super heartfelt. Like, holding hands in the moonlight and “[First], we’ve been friends for x months/years. We’ve been through a lot. *lists all of the things they’ve done together* And now I’ve realized that it’s fun going through life with someone by my side. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun with someone…not even in high school. But I know that there are other people out there that want this special someone of my choice, so I gotta, you know, stake my claim and all that shit. *deep breaths, thinking that was really stupid* [First], will you go through life with me?”

[soundofawesomeblog]

This Fall, we are counting down the 100 best tracks of the 2000s with a new article every Monday. To learn more about the project and why the 2000s were amazing for music, click here.

After what felt like forever, we finally made it to the end: this week, we present the top 10 positions of the countdown. To listen to every single track listed in our top 100, you can head to the Spotify playlist we created at the bottom of the page.

Navigation

Intro   100-91   90-81   80-71   70-61   60-51   50-41   40-31   30-21   20-11   10-1

10. The Strokes - Hard to Explain

True, it is a little easy and inaccurate to say that The Strokes single-handily saved rock music in 2001. But during the summer of that year, the new band felt like a breath of fresh air, no matter how much they smelled like cigarette. Hard to Explain sounds easier than it is with a metronome-like drum beat and an endless stream of downstrokes. The track keeps moving forwards and forwards until it reaches its climax two minutes in and, just like that, disappears completely. The band then reels it right back and goes for the ride a second time, as exciting as the first. It is the track that rightfully set the expectations rocket high for the band’s first album Is This It and it’s a miracle they managed to reach them.

9. Amy Winehouse - Rehab

If America wasn’t already sold to Amy Winehouse yet by the time Rehab was released, it took only about 30 seconds to get it all hooked. On the biggest single of her cruelly short career, Amy wastes no time belting out the chorus in the opening seconds, backed by soul band the Dap-Kings and immaculate production from Mark Ronson. Don’t get it twisted though; it truly is Amy’s presence at the center stage that infuses the song its magnetism, with her defiant and relentless personality, giving it enough character to live long after she’s gone. With Rehab, Amy Winehouse kicked the door wide open for women to sing their imperfections with sass and break from the picture perfect plastic mold.

8. Radiohead - Idioteque

Radiohead truly became immortals in the 2000s, thanks in no small part to key tracks like Idioteque. After all, only a rock band in full grace mode could ditch its guitars for 1970’s computer music samples and end up with such a compelling piece of music. Thom Yorke’s falsetto, which ranges from delicate to plain manic as the song progresses, clashes with the robotic and cold background provided by a highly compressed drum machine and a Paul Lansky chord progression. The result sounds both like a virtual nightmare Yorke tries to wake up from, and a real dream to IDM-trained ears.

7. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Maps

As punk as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were on their début album, no track they would ever release would reach the height of the tender ballad of Maps. Propelled by Nick Zinner’s rapid strum and secret weapon drummer Brian Chase’s thoughtful performance, the Fever To Tell highlight remains a love song for the ages. Meanwhile, Karen O’s feelings can’t help but burst out the iconic track, helped by its iconic “Wait, they don’t love you like I love you” line.

6. Grizzly Bear - Two Weeks

By the end of the decade, indie pop was still interested in bedroom aspirations, making delicate, intimate pieces of music. Grizzly Bear, however, was ready to make the most grandiose track they could with Two Weeks, and it sure feels like they reached both the moon and the stars. Starting with a bouncy piano motif and cartoonish whoa-ohs, Two Weeks builds upon a drum loop that would make Vampire Weekend jealous before crashing into a confetti convention in the chorus. The dizzying layers of synths and celestial backing vocals elevate the track to outer space for the band’s finest hour.

5. The Knife - Heartbeats

In the 2000s, few choruses felt as vital as the one The Knife cranked out on their synthpop masterpiece Heartbeats: “To call for hands from above to lean on/Wouldn’t be good enough/For Me, oh”. What is magical about the track, however, is the way Karin Dreijer Andersson sings. Channelling her inner Björk, she injects a duality of emotions in her delivery as she tiptoes between pure joy and pure nostalgia. Instead of “hands up above” though, she leans on a colourful yet robotic wall of synths and steel drums, one that is trying to rationalize her confused feelings. Heartbeats might not have been exactly a hit when it first came out, but such an ageless track can only win in notoriety through the years.

4. Arcade Fire - Rebellion (Lies)

With its first album Funerals, Arcade Fire launched nothing less than an indie revolution in the mid-2000s. This rings especially true with Rebellion (Lies). The cathartic single is a deep journey to the grandiose. The real tour-de-force here is how natural it sounds; how Win Butler and his friends manage to create such a resonating piece, such an emotionally heavy track without ever sounding fake, forced or cheesy. Instead, the band wears its feelings right on its sleeve with an attitude that would inspire thousands of alternative rock bands for generations to come. Sung from the point of view of a child, Rebellion (Lies) pleas for the listener to stop hiding underneath the covers and to be who they want to be and to dream outside of their bed, an advice that isn’t as naive as it sounds.

3. M.I.A. - Paper Planes

The Clash started as a punk band but quickly incorporated elements of funk, reggae, hip-hop and world music to its core. It is therefore fitting that an artist like rapper M.I.A., one who was born from DIY and punk ethos, would end up sampling a song of them. On Paper Planes, the Londonian celebrates globalization one cash register noise at a time. Migrants, refugees or stoners, there was something for everyone on this global track, even if the visa trouble that inspired the song come from M.I.A.’s very own personal experience. In a decade with so many male rappers using girls as props in their videos while literally calling themselves P.I.M.P. in the process, it is telling that the most essential rap single of the 2000s came from a woman.

2. The Rapture - House Of Jealous Lovers

If you can scream the title of this track and count to 8, you can already sing 90% of House Of Jealous Lovers. The Rapture forms here the tightest rock unit making the nastiest, sweatiest, slickest disco song possible, one that could make CBGB and Studio 54 burn simultaneously. The quintessential dance-punk number gets its power from a groovy bass for the ages, funky drumming, an incisive guitar sound, epileptic vibratos and a stupid amount of cowbell. In the 2000s, there was simply no other song that managed to channel such frenzy as effectively as House Of Jealous Lovers.

1. LCD Soundsystem - All My Friends

Growing old is scary as fuck, which is why our culture is so obsessed with staying young. Pop stars rarely survive long after they reach 30 years old, either because newer stars replace them, either because they literally die before they get old. James Murphy was, therefore, a bit of an oddity when he first came out of the New York scene with his début single Losing My Edge at 32 years old. Sure, his indie dance tales are a little too weird for him to truly become a star; he only got a number one album in the USA on his comeback album in 2017 on an especially slow chart week. But for a generation of well-informed music fans, he was the best-kept secret of the 2000s.

It also helped that, with LCD Soundsystem, Murphy wasn’t especially singing about being young. He preferred to sing about inviting an A-list electronic band to play in his basement, about death or about being the fat guy in a t-shirt doing all the singing. Losing my Edge, in fact, addressed this very situation, exposing a narrator who was starting to lag behind the cool kids, but who wanted to show he was still cooler because he “was there” when it started.

This all leads to All My Friends, without a doubt the greatest single track of the 2000s. Starting with a shivering piano riff, the song builds on as Murphy adds years to his odometer. All My Friends isn’t exactly a party track as much as it’s a song about trying to live the life of the party, about doing everything to get as much from our younger years, surviving the tomorrows and ruining our bodies just trying to fit in and live. Soon, the piano riff becomes drilling, it feels more and more urgent. The rapid-fire hi-hats open more and more often. The guitars and the synths are more and more present, leading to a mid-thirties James Murphy pleading to “see all my friends tonight”. As LCD Soundsystem reformed itself in 2016 after a five-year hiatus, Murphy’s words bear more and more weight, with the idea that each stupid decision, each thrill could be the last. All My Friends is more than a song about the midlife crisis: it touches themes of nostalgia, friendship, growing old and trying to make it work out in the end. And just like a lifestyle of partying, the song never puts the breaks on, drifting at 140 beats per minute before crashing seven minutes and a half later. 

In the end, All My Friends is scary. It’s frenetic, it’s wise, but it’s also so brutally honest in its statement and subject matter that it ends up intimidating. In a decade that saw the increase of the influence of the internet, of social media, of phones and of everything else that would make our parents cringe, All My Friends arcs back to the universal idea that you are probably missing out, that you are missing your friends more than you think, that your life is getting empty and that your youth is slipping away. Goddammit, do something with it before it’s too late. Check the charts, figure it out and go out there. 

(Note that Jay-Z’s 99 Problems and Primal Scream’s Kill All Hippies are not available on Spotify)

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[sunbroste]

Test Post: Past writing (2015): ‘Uni Struggles.’ - A little blog I wrote on the ‘hardships’ of student life...

A brief introduction, then. The “On This Day” feature of Facebook, today points out that on this day five years ago... my Facebook status was: “beaten 3 times in a row on FIFA. *MASSIVE SULK.*”  ... and my second one was: “ oh ffs...someone in Cov lend me some internet?! I NEED MEW!!!” Wow, such struggles. Looking back, I am not sure how 20-year old Ste coped. Here I sit in the present day, at 25 (>_<) with a recurring stress-knot in my shoulder thanks to the stresses of my full-time job, a financed car, most Apple/Sony products under the sun, an expensively relatively unused Playstation 4, and two parents who, let’s face it, would love me to find a girl and GTFO. Do not get me wrong... owning Mew is important. Winning on FIFA, less so, now, (fuck you, FIFA)... but the point is, simpler times were simpler. This is a very legitimate list of some of the real-life struggles and hardships endured by student Ste...  N.B. At this stage, I will assume most people know the ACTUAL family struggle I had during that period. So, casting that saga aside... 1) Being unable to connect my Nintendo DS to the landlord/lady’s internet... and being unable to obtain Mew and various other rare Pokemon. 2) Having to do the washing up... once every blue moon when my housemates got fed up with me and made me do it. 3) Realising that doing the washing up once every blue moon was just too much... and eating take-out (Benny’s) instead. 4) Having between 8-16 lecture hours a week, with an ‘early start’ of 10am. (Second year, you were harsh.) 5) Finding a legit pair of socks. 6) Finding anything. 7) Running out of revision post-it’s... because I posted them all on my housemate’s door. With dick’s on them, and things. 8) Only being able to play Badminton on average five times a week... for free. 9) Having to order TWO ‘small breakfasts’ on seperate plates, because that was the discounted breakfast... and I wanted a large breakfast. 10) Being unable to eat cheesecake in the library. But eating it anyway. 11) Not ironing anything ever and going out looking like the perfect crease. 12) Losing the Wumpa Cup on ‘Crash Team Racing’. ;_; 13) Complaining every time an electricity bill came, despite abusing TV’s, docking stations, laptop charger’s, phone charger’s... 14) Waiting for the bathroom to be free. Waiting... and waiting... an- GOGOGO it’s free! Oh goddammit, too late. I’ll hold it. 15) Owning more Badminton shirts than any other form of shirt. 16) Simply inviting everyone round to our house, because the nearest pub we could meet up at was a hefty five-minute walk away. 17) Handing assignments in at 11:59, having completed it in only two hours, and still being disappointed to scrape a ‘pass’. 18) Having to use Wikipedia as the scientifically objective research form, because finding a book in the library was... well, don’t be daft. Wiki is easier. 19) Having to put headphones in at 3am... cos somebody was having rampant sex. 20) Being told to put headphones in at 3am... cos apparently Muse was too loud. 21) Passing out on booze before 9pm and having your friends rip your jeans in an attempt to remove you from the kitchen floor. 22) Being the scruff who could get ready in under five minutes, and having to wait days for everybody else to do their hair. 23) Realising that cheesy chips are actually really overrated, and going back for some greasy chicken. 24) Air-conditioned lecture theatr-zzzzzzzzzzzz 25) Being the only ‘Northerner’ and frequently having to defend my use of the legitimate word.... ‘t’ 26) Carrying heavy shopping back from the shops... because baked beans with everything. 27) Getting portioned more meat and potato than anyone else when having a house dinner, because I didn’t like the green things. 28) Responding to “how’s your dissertation going, Ste?” With “I’ll think of a topic for it, soon.” 29) Accepting that your social awkwardness will one day catch up with you when you leave, and not everybody has exactly the same interests... 30) Binge-watching TV shows because everybody has ‘that housemate’ with the 100 tera-byte hard drive... filled largely with porn. 31) Deciding whether to be the guy that farts loudly and proudly, or witholds it and casts internal suspicion on the entire group. 32) Living by ‘swear jar’ rules. 33) Rating girls in ‘Football League and position’ terms. 34)  Not knowing whether to take one, or two power-naps in the afternoon, to catch up on your sleep-debt from waking up at 1pm. 35) Realising that sleeping with teddies is, actually still acceptable. 36) Lending aftershave because yours smells like sewers. 37) Having to down your drink because it has a small, circular chunk of copper thrown into it. 38) Having “No thanks, I don’t drink tea or coffee.” met with “AND YOU CALL YOURSELF A NORTHERNER?!” 39) Teaching everybody south of Derby what 9 ‘while’ 10 means. 40) Being excited about breaking-up and going home for Christmas/Summer, so that you can do nothing in even greater quantities, with different people. The list could go on... but I can smell my tea. Being cooked for me... by Mum. Oh, the struggle! :)